Sorry About That
by marevec0m
Summary: All Draco wants is to work for MLES, get rid of his clingy girlfriend, and shag every female in the Ministry. Well, until Ginny Weasley comes along. (rated T for now)
1. I Love My Job

**Sorry About That**

**Chapter One: I Love My Job**

Draco stepped out of his shower and scowled at his reflection after he'd used a quick flick of his wand to remove all of the steam from the room. It was Saturday, and he'd originally wanted to drown away his troubles with some firewhiskey at the local pub, but this particular day he had to work. He'd come a long way from the boy who got out of Azkaban by an eyelash length bit of luck, and had worked his way from passing out coffees and sorting mail at the Ministry to now being the Senior Assistant to the Minister of Magic, Dorian Craigston. He'd now been working solely for Craigston for three years, hoping that one day he'd finally be able to clear his last name and get on in with the Magical Law Enforcement Squad, where he longed to work.

Draco didn't mind where he worked now, if he wanted to be honest with himself. Craigston was mostly fair, sometimes a bit too all-knowing, and never refrained from speaking what was on his mind. He appreciated honesty, even if it was ruthless, which had actually been how Draco had landed the job in the first place. Draco could still recall the day he'd barged into the Minister's office on the pretenses of quitting. He'd told the Minister everything he could think of that he'd found wrong with the Ministry and how it was run, he'd gone to toss his employee badge right into Craigston's face, and instead the older man had merely smiled, and offered him a new position.

If he had known three years ago that accepting that job offer had meant that he would wind up eventually sacrificing all of his Saturdays for the months of November and December to attend meetings with Craigston and Harry _bloody_ Potter, he'd have chucked the badge like he'd intended and never come back.

This was to be their first meeting with Potter, and Draco had tried everything he could think of to weasel his way out of it. He hadn't seen Potter since he'd gone to his hearing and Potter had cleared Draco and his family of all charges. He knew he ran the Auror department and so he'd made it a point to avoid going around there at all times, despite the fact that Daphne Sways' office was just across the hall and she had a bosom so big that Draco felt his head might actually be smaller. He'd instead taken to flirting with her in the lifts and in the break room over coffee.

He'd started to complain of a stomach ache on Monday, progressively making it seem worse and worse, so that come Friday he'd hoped that Craigston would have just a pinch of heart and tell Draco to take off - but he hadn't. Draco had figured out early morning Wednesday that his plan wasn't going to work when he'd eyed his overflowing inbox after shrugging out of his coat. He'd gone through every department he could think of, spoken to any of the connections he'd made, even threatened a few people to let him join in some of their various projects or tasks that were taking place that weekend. Unfortunately, it seemed everyone had known about him coming in advance, and either weren't in their office or simply shot him down when he questioned. Draco had that morning decided he just would disappear for the day and apologize on Monday, but he'd been rudely awakened by four separate owls throughout his morning, each carrying him notes reminding him that he needed to meet Craigston at precisely one pm in London, or else.

Thinking about how badly his life would be affected if he simply quit, he sighed, gripped the edges of his sink, and gave in. There was no way out of it. He made exceedingly good money as a Senior Assistant, and he enjoyed his work. His flat was one of the nicest ones in Aging Stones, (right outside of Aberdeen, Scotland) his Gringotts account was large enough that he could almost always afford whatever he wanted, and his parents were proud of him. He would just have to suffer through the next month of Saturday meetings and be on his best behavior. After it was over he would speak to Craigston again about getting on with MLES, and how could he refuse after something like this? He assumed Draco was too hot tempered to join MLES, but Draco would be sure to show that he could handle situations he didn't really want to be in. He told himself over and over that he needed to be on his best behavior, no matter what, prove himself to Craigston, and get his life back on the track he wanted it on.

He cast a drying spell on himself and threw on the robes he'd set out for today. They were freshly pressed, brand new, and made especially for him. He was at least going to go to Potter's house in style.

When he exited the bathroom he nearly jumped when a figure on his bed shifted. He'd forgotten that he'd invited Astoria over the previous night. Probably because he _hadn't_ invited her, she just had a way of showing up and letting herself in that irked him, and she wasn't exactly a person he found particularly memorable.

There wasn't anything wrong with her, really. She had a very pretty face, piercing blue-green eyes that really stood out against her chestnut hair, and a very, very (_very_) slim frame. She wrote gossip articles for _Witch Weekly_ and modeled on the side; she was someone a lot of people would be very happy to have interested in them. But, he thought bitterly to himself, they didn't have to listen to her go on and on about her _feelings_ and their _future_ and _children_. His parents had arranged for them to start seeing each other not too long after the War ended, out of hopes of bringing their name out of the garbage. In the beginning Draco had been enthusiastic about it, simply because she was a rather good-looking female, but after nearly six years of putting up with her he was simply over it all. It seemed like he couldn't get rid of her. She didn't want to leave.

"Good morning," she said, yawning and sitting up, covering her naked body with his sheets.

He sat at the edge of the bed to put on his shoes, and cringed when she moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso and rested her head on his shoulder blades. "Don't you have somewhere to be?" He questioned, shrugging her off of him so he could continue his task of getting dressed.

"Not until two," she said, unfazed by his tone and his actions. "But it's just a late lunch with Skeeter, anyway, to talk about a rumor she heard about Ollivander. I'll be back a little after you get home, I'm sure."

He rolled his eyes and mocked her, though she couldn't see his face, and took a deep breath to steady his tone. "Or, why don't you just go back to your place?" He tried to suggest it like it was a great idea, like it sounded entertaining, even.

He could actually _feel_ her narrow her eyes. "I haven't seen you in two weeks, Draco, why would I want to go home?"

"Well, it _is_ where you live, after all. And I figure since I'm the one paying your rent-"

"_Only_ because you weren't ready to live together-"

"-that my money shouldn't be wasted with you staying here all the time."

"Or you could give up the fact that you just want to shag your way through the Ministry and just let me move in with you," she spat, and Draco turned to face her at those words.

He had to admit, he did like her when she was angry. Her eyes were always the first thing anybody noticed about her, but when her cheeks were red her eyes stood out even more than usual, and drew him in. Something about her flushed appearance always made him a bit randy, and he wondered if there was enough time to… No. One glance at the clock told him he only had a few more minutes before he had to meet Craigston and it would take him ten of those to make it the apparition point. "We'll talk about this later." He stated, before grabbing his coat and turning to walk out of his room.

"Later…like tonight? After my lunch with Rita?"

He rolled his eyes. "Whenever, love," he said, and ignored her _I love you_, heading out of flat and into the busy street.

He'd chosen this exact location for two reasons: one, because the flat was large, modern, and located in a very distinguished magical community. The flat itself was on the seventh floor, so he got a great view of the city when he glanced outside, but it was charmed so that whenever he opened the front door he was always flat on the ground. There were no lifts to sit in, no stairs to climb. And two, because it was far away from anybody he really wanted to bump into (Astoria included). He'd tried living briefly in London to be close to work, but it seemed everyone there knew everything about him and always wanted to stop and stare, or chat. He kept out of the papers now that he lived so far away, and he enjoyed his privacy. In fact, except for the random women he would bring home, only Astoria had ever come around to visit. Not to mention the closest apparition point was nearly a mile away, and that meant that Astoria didn't come over as often as she had when he'd lived in London.

Once he'd reached the outskirts of Aging Stone, he apparated, and used the old telephone booth to make his way into the Ministry, grumbling under his breath. Luckily, Craigston was only waiting in the Atrium, so he didn't have to go all the way to his office to pick him up. Though Draco wore an expression of exasperation and annoyance, Craigston smiled brightly when he saw him and patted him on the back. "Draco, right on time, as always. You certainly look better, I assume your stomach bug has gone?"

Draco gritted his teeth, "Seems to of done," he said, careful of his tone. "Shall we?"

The Minister grinned knowingly, pulled a small bit of parchment out of his pocket, and handed it over to Draco. _1298 Woodfire Lane_, it read. Draco knew this had to be Potter's address, and read it once more to make sure he had it memorized. He extended his arm for Craigston to take hold of, and turned on the spot.

Draco felt nauseous once they'd arrived at their meeting place. He doubled over briefly to catch his breath, focusing on the ground beneath him at the time, and not noticing the house before him. He hated apparating so closely together, but Craigston never wanted to travel by floo or portkey. "All right, Draco?" Craigston asked, and Draco took a deep breath and straightened himself out, nodding.

The house actually startled him a bit. It was much larger than Draco had expected, at least almost as big as Malfoy Manor. He'd known Potter was, for lack of a better phrase, filthy stinking rich, but he hadn't expected him to live in such a way as though to flaunt it. Draco figured he'd had gone and spent half his fortune on charities and orphans and freeing house elves, or whatever it was the lot of bloody Gryffindors did when they were given things they didn't deserve.

Draco locked his jaw in an attempt to mask the contemptuous look he knew had stolen across his face from Craigston, who was looking at him as though expecting exactly that reaction from him. "Nice house," Draco said dismissively, and they fell into step together silently.

Once they'd reached the front door Draco hesitated again, and turned to face Craigston. "Are you sure that I have to attend these meetings?" He questioned. He knew he was acting exactly how he'd been expected to act, but he was having a harder time of pretending not to care than he originally assumed he would. "I know that a lot of this has to do with the Donovan case and you told me earlier on that I wasn't allowed to join in with that particular assignment-"

"Draco," he sighed, heavily, "If you behave the next few months I'll allow you to join in any assignment that you so wish."

Draco's mood lifted some, and with a new-found confidence he knocked on the door, waiting for Potter to open it.

He was surprised to find a woman answer, instead. It was the She-Weasel – or She-Potter, perhaps, as he noticed she now spotted a ring on her finger. He couldn't recall her name off the top of his head but he remembered that firey red hair and seeing her and Potter's pictures in the _Prophet_ quite a bit.

The past six years had been very kind to her, and that was saying it as nicely as Draco dared. She'd filled out proportionally, but still remained slender, though she had curves in all the right places. She was bigger than most of the girls he'd ever found himself with; his type was built like a wand, almost sickly looking, and the Weasley was shaped like a time-turner. Her skin had tanned some, perhaps from Quidditch, as Draco recalled she had previously played professionally, and it made her freckles almost seem to blend. He realized with a start that he had been checking her out, and actually approving of what he saw, before he shook his head slightly to clear that away. Of course Potter would wind up in a large home, with lots of money, and a gorgeous wife. The bastard got everything.

"Hello, Ginny, how are you?" Craigston questioned, reaching out for her hand, which he kissed when she extended it.

Ginny smiled warmly at him, and forced a small one in Draco's direction. "I've been well, come in," she moved aside to let them enter. "Harry's out back testing out his new Skyblue 500, but I'll let him know that you're here."

Draco bit his tongue at the mention of the broom. It wasn't even released to come out for another 3 months and Draco's name was on a long waiting list just on the pre-order side. But of course Potter would be given special privileges and be able to obtain a broom the moment it was thought into existence.

If he'd thought that he couldn't be any more miserable, he was mistaken once he saw the interior of the house. It seemed even larger from inside, and had so many windows that it almost felt like they were still in the garden. The walls were beige and with deep red trim, the furniture looked expensive but exceedingly comfortable, and once Draco noticed Potter's broom collection on display across the room he felt like he needed to punch someone. It seemed that every time he looked at something else his jealousy grew, and finally he felt so nauseous from it that he chose to focus on Craigston. The latter was still watching him carefully.

"I know this is difficult for you-" he began.

"Do you?" Draco spat in response, and instantly regretted it. "It's nothing. I think it's just my stomach bug acting up. I don't think I'm completely well yet."

Craigston made himself comfortable on the large sofa, and Draco joined him, pulling out his notepad and a quill, ready to take notes. "You may put that away for now," Craigston directed. "Today's meeting is more of a catch-up, we'll get down to the real business next weekend."

It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to whine about why he needed to be there for just a _catching up_ session, but again he caught himself and stopped. Some days he wasn't even sure why Craigston kept him, he knew he acted like a spoiled child at the best of times, but for some reason the old man had taken a liking to him. That, or deep down he was very cruel and simply wanted to make Draco miserable, which, Draco was beginning to believe was what was truly the case.

The couple finally made their way back inside, Potter looking flushed in the face from the cool air, and his hair, which had always been untamable, now looked simply wild. Draco hated to admit it, but time had been kind to him as well. He'd filled out nicely, he was no longer the scrawny little git he'd known in school. He'd done his best the last six years to avoid being around Potter, and he'd done a good job so far. Draco could honestly say he'd only caught a few glimpses of the guy since the hearing. The only other times he'd seen him was when he was splattered across the _Prophet_, but Draco hadn't really given it much attention.

Potter and him exchanged glances, but other than that didn't speak. Him and Ginny took the sofa opposite the one Draco sat on, and summoned refreshments. Draco watched how they interacted together as he helped himself to a cup of tea, for something to busy himself with.

He noticed they didn't exactly sit too closely, and though they could sometimes finish each others sentences, it didn't really seem like they were the Couple of the Year that _Witch Weekly_ had pronounced them on a few separate occasions. He was surprised, to say the least, that though they did have pictures of themselves, family, and friends hanging up around the house that there were no pictures or proof of any children. He'd heard rumor, now that he thought about it, from Astoria last year when Ginny had quit playing that they were talking about starting a family. He'd forgotten the information not too long after hearing it, as he usually did with anything Astoria happened to bring up. He'd have to question her about them when he got home, it seemed that sometimes her working a gossip column and being Rita Skeeter's best friend might have come in handy.

"What about you, Draco?" He heard, which snapped him back to the conversation at hand. Everyone was looking at him expectantly, and Ginny had the faint trace of annoyance on her face, at the fact that it seemed he'd been ignoring her.

"Sorry?"

"Do you think Puddlemere United have a chance at winning the Cup this season?" She repeated.

Ah, Quidditch talk. This made things a bit easier. "No," he responded, which clearly seemed to shock everyone in the room. "Honestly, with the Gorodok Goblins now sporting Devon Van-Fleet as Seeker and getting rid of their God-awful Keeper, I think Puddlemere is easily going to score second."

Potter frowned, "They lost by 100 points to the Bats-"

"Yes but you can't deny that the Bats are going to lose against the Tornados with Winston being out. I mean, it might be a close game because their Keeper is rather good, but he was their only Chaser who was really worth a damn."

"No way," Ginny interjected. "Moonfield is a great Chaser; he's only improved since just last season. I think without Winston taking all of the fame that he'll really stand out in the game."

"Yes, but well enough to be the _Tornados_?" Draco cried, almost laughing at the sheer absurdity of her statement.

She turned a bit red. "Well… Maybe not."

"Why don't we bet on it?" Potter questioned, a smirk on his face. "50 galleons on the Bats beating the Tornados."

Draco pondered it for a moment. "50 galleons it is." It's not as thought that were quite a lot of money to him, but if he were honest, he didn't exactly have the best track record when it came to going against Potter. He'd spoken so surely of himself earlier, but Potter had called his bluff, and now he was sweating on it a bit.

He shook it off, however. If there was one thing he knew for sure, it was Quidditch. Even if he were to lose to it, it was basically just a bet based on chance. It could go in anyone's favor, so what harm would it do to lose a bet like that?

He was sure he saw a hint of a smile pass on Craigston's face, so he scowled back, and tried to pay more attention to the conversation at hand.

It was nearly an hour of story-telling, some of which had Draco close to smiling, but the majority of it he remained sullen and quiet. Though Craigston had said they weren't going to discuss the Donovan case that day, his name did come up, which put Draco at instant alert, though he tried to appear as though he were day-dreaming and staring out the window. He knew if Craigston thought he was paying any attention that he'd be ushered out of the room, but as though Craigston read his mind, Draco and Ginny were asked to excuse the two of them for a few minutes.

Draco wondered what would happen if he simply refused to go, but the thought of being left alone with Ginny was what made him stand. He followed her back into a sitting room and again sat across from her, not speaking. In the end, she broke the silence. "So, Malfoy…how's life?" Her voice was strained, as thought she'd rather be doing anything else in the world than sitting near him and trying to entertain him.

"Wonderful," he replied, with an even tone. "This is a nice home. Certainly not what I expected from you two."

"And just what did you expect?" He could hear the traces of a temper beginning in her voice, so he decided to try a different approach. It wouldn't be good to piss off Potter's wife.

"Something a bit more humble…Smaller. I assumed it would be a nice sized place, just didn't expect it to be so…big." He thought about his words after he'd spoken them, wondering if he'd said it in a way that wouldn't offend her.

"Well, this isn't my home, it's Harry's," she said. "I thought the same thing about it when he bought it. It's large for a large family, but a bit too big, I think."

He refrained from making a comment about her pathetic excuse for a home she'd grown up in clouding her vision of what proper housing sizes were, though it was on the tip of his tongue to spit it out. "I assumed you were married," he said, motioning at her ring.

"Engaged," she corrected. She didn't elaborate, and Draco didn't want to ask, so he fell quiet again. "What about you?" She asked as an afterthought, as though remembering it was polite at the last minute. "I've heard you and Astoria are still together."

He glowered. "And just how did you hear that?"

"I just got on with the _Daily Prophet_ and Rita Skeeter is your biggest fan. Or stalker, rather. Whichever. She loves to talk about you."

"Is that so?" He drawled, slowly. "And what does she have to say?" He often wondered if Astoria vented to that pathetic excuse of a witch whenever they argued. They'd gotten into numerous fights about it when she and Skeeter had first begun their lunch sessions together, because there had been a long article about him that had angered him. It hadn't actually been a bad one, but it was the fact that he'd tried so hard to keep his name out of the papers only to find a picture of him on page 3 – it had been outrageous.

Ginny grinned, wickedly, he thought. "Worried, are you?"

"Wouldn't you be?"

"I think anything she decides to say about you would just be payback enough for the times you slandered Harry to her."

He sniffed. He had no real argument to that. "Yes, well, we were just kids back then. I have a career to worry about now."

She looked as though she would _love_ to comment on his career, but said nothing.

They continued to make some small talk, up until they heard the roaring laughter of Potter and Craigston seep into the hallway. Draco sighed with relief, more than ready to leave, and rose to his feet. He said polite goodbyes to the couple, and he and Craigston exited their home. Draco felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders, and he took a deep breath, actually smiling at his sudden sense of freedom. "How did I do?" He questioned.

Craigston merely shook his head with amusement.

**A/N:** This is an idea that randomly popped into my head the other day. I decided to try a Draco/Ginny after reading Ginny Weasley and the Cure of the Firstborn (check it out!). I'm hoping for this story to have a lot of humor and irony in it - I'm having a lot of fun with Astoria's character. Anyway, thanks for reading if you have, and if you like it, let me know! :)


	2. Malfoy's and Elf Wine Don't Mix

Sorry About That

**Chapter Two: Malfoy's and Elf Wine Don't Mix**

**Warning**: A bit of smut at the end of this chapter.

"What the bloody hell is this?!" Draco cried, causing Astoria to look at him from where she sat on the bed.

"My clothes," she said, stiffly, before returning back to her book.

"Yes, but what are they doing in _my_ _drawer_. Why is this drawer filled with your clothes? And why is there a pink towel hanging in my bathroom?" He was irritated. He'd just wanted to go home, take a relaxing shower, drink a bit, and go to sleep. Tomorrow was Wednesday, and he always had the most amount of work to do on Wednesday, so he usually tried to get to the office as early as possible. To be able to do that meant going to bed as early as possible on Tuesday, which he was finding might be impossible because of how angry he was.

"Because I put them there," she replied, still not bothering to pay him any attention.

That just made him angrier. He grabbed his wand and vanished the book she was reading, causing her to cry out with annoyance. "Why? _Why_ did you assume you could just move my bloody things around to make room for yours? And why would you assume that I'd be alright with a _pink towel_ hanging in my bathroom?"

"Don't you think you're overreacting?" Astoria questioned, with a sigh. "Obviously I moved in some of my things because I've been your girlfriend for six years, and I grew tired of having to pack an overnight bag anytime I wanted to sleep over."

"Stop sleeping over, then. I haven't invited you." He vanished her clothes, and the pink towel, for good measure.

That seemed to really anger her. "I'll just go get money from your account tomorrow to replace everything of mine you just got rid of, then."

He somehow always seemed to forget that Astoria was on his account. He made enough money that he forgot he'd have doubled it if he wasn't paying all of her bills as well. Astoria paid for any luxury items she wanted with her own money, it wasn't as though she were underpaid either, but Draco took care of the rest. He'd been doing it for three years now, ever since he first got his job with the Minister. At first he'd done it because he wanted to prove to Astoria that he could take care of her. There was a very large part of him that loved the girl that was currently sitting in his bed, but it wasn't the love he'd felt years ago. Now she felt more like an obligation, an annoyance. He never wanted her around, but when she'd been gone for a few weeks he missed her. Then he would go out and drink and somehow wind up at her flat, telling her how much he loved her. They would have sex, he'd pass out, and once he woke up the next morning he'd had her fill of her and was done with it for a few more weeks.

He supposed the reason he liked Astoria was because she loved him. She never tried to change him. She knew he went around charming every female he saw, but she stuck around. He'd been told by Markus Down, a coworker he was rather fond of, that she probably assumed he'd grow out of womanizing one day and want to settle down. Draco knew he was a catch, there was no actual denying it. He made exceedingly well money, he was good looking, rather talented in the bedroom, and he came from generations of perfect blood. You take the other women out of the equation and he had everything to offer.

It was twenty minutes later, when he had tossed all of Astoria's shoes he'd found hidden in his wardrobe out of his window that he wondered why she was still waiting around on him.

At this point in their argument it was mostly just Astoria screaming about how much of an arsehole he was, while Draco merely acted bored. He knew the fight would either end in her slamming her way out of his flat and disappearing for a few days, or it would end in sex. On this particular night, with the events of a rather long Wednesday to look forward to, he hoped it was the first.

She seemed to realize he'd lost interest in even responding and turned on her heal, making it a point to knock over his nightstand on her way out, causing his clock to break into pieces. He fixed it with a lazy wave of his wand and crawled into his bed, falling asleep not too long after laying down.

**oOo**

One of the best things about getting to work early meant that he'd bump into Daphne Sway in the break room.

He'd been slowly attempting to woo her over for the last six months by pretending he really wasn't trying to woo her over. He knew it would take some patience with her, because her friend Matilda had been Draco's last conquest, and Matilda hadn't quite taken the "break up" well.

At first Daphne had been wary of him, and rarely spoken a word - she had actually been a rather hard one to crack. It wasn't until about three weeks prior that she started to flirt back with him, and Draco was almost positive that she purposefully went to the break room in the mornings to see him now. In fact, when he entered that day he was a good five minutes late, and she was leaning against the counter drumming her fingers on it, impatiently. "Morning, Daphne," he said, grinning.

She blushed, obviously embarrassed at getting caught, and smiled at him. "Morning yourself," she purred.

Oh, yes, Draco thought, he had her in the bag now.

There wasn't anything exceptional about Daphne, just like there hadn't been any exceptional about Matilda. Or the three women in the mail department. Or the receptionist in the Atrium. Or any of the other women in the Ministry he'd been with. They were all single women, who longed for any kind of male attention, and giggled at everything he said. They all seemed to think it was different with them, despite knowing his reputation. And, perhaps his favorite thing about them, they all would put out after a night of dinner and a walk alongside the ocean by his flat, usually after confessing they had strong feelings for him, and him silencing them with a kiss. He never got them drunk, though. He took advantage emotionally, but not if there were alcohol involved. He wanted them to at least be in their right mind when they decided that he was simply too good looking and charming for them to reject him.

He'd actually enjoyed chasing after Daphne. Matilda had been a typical easy conquest. He supposed she didn't get a lot of male suitors because of her large teeth and thin hair, so it had taken Draco all of three days worth to get her to agree to come out with him and accompany him back to his apartment. They were usually always that easy. Daphne was the first one he'd actually had to work for, and even though he was now sure he could have her whenever he wanted, he was hesitant. What exactly would he do after he brought her home? His life would return back to its normal ways, he would start drinking again, and then he'd wind up with Astoria talking about how he wanted to change and marry her.

He shuddered at the thought. Merlin knew why every time he got drunk he decided he was, in fact, a sorry excuse for a wizard, and wanted to change himself for her. Actually, there was probably a lot of truth in there, but he didn't have time to sit and dwell on it now.

"What are you doing this weekend?" Daphne questioned, pouring him a cup of coffee and adding just a pinch of cream. She had watched him do it enough. The thing that amused Draco the most about it was that he didn't even drink the coffee. He'd only come to the break room to make small talk with her, and would hold the cup and talk to her, and then merely toss it down the sink once one of them left.

"Aside from working Saturday morning, I don't have much going on."

She pretended to look interested in her coffee. "Will Astoria be over?"

He was used to this. It was comical how all the girls at the Ministry knew about Astoria, and yet none of them seemed to think any differently of him because of it. In the beginning, when he'd shagged Rhonda Spuntknock, his first, he'd worried frantically over how Astoria would react. Back then she would come to the Ministry and they would have lunch together, and Rhonda would sit a few tables away from them glaring. He'd loved Astoria back then, less than he had in the beginning, but certainly more than he did now, and he'd been afraid she would leave him. In the end, Rhonda thought she was causing Draco grief by spilling the beans, but Astoria had simply hexed the woman to shut her up, and then had a defamatory article about her posted in her column. Now all the women at the Ministry were too afraid to say anything to the witch, and though Astoria heard rumors, nobody had ever truly confirmed Draco still ran around.

He often wondered if she'd really leave him if she knew for sure, but not for very long, because he really didn't care.

"Astoria, I believe, will be staying home this weekend."

"Well…why don't you and I go somewhere Friday night? Maybe grab something to eat, have a few drinks…go to your place?"

Draco grinned. "Where should I meet you?"

**oOo**

After work on Friday, Draco was considering cancelling on his "date" with Daphne. It had been a very long, tiring week. Steven Rushford, head of the Administrative Section, had been out from a backfiring spell, and so Draco had had to take over that department, as well as do his own work. As usual, Craigston hadn't cared about the fact that Draco was completely swamped, and chose to need him more than he normally would, leaving Draco completely exhausted. He'd gotten twelve and a half hours of overtime in, and that was only split between three days. His date with Daphne was at 8:30 and Draco arrived at his flat at exactly 8:15. He wanted to sleep.

He peeled off his clothing at a snail's pace and then climbed into his shower, resting his head on the wall, and letting the water roll down his body. He swore he only closed his eyes to blink, but when he opened them again his water wasn't very hot. Suddenly very awake (Draco hated to be late), he leapt from the shower and glanced at the time. 8:45. Daphne was probably still waiting at the apparition point, if he hurried he could probably still reach her.

He dressed down, not wearing the outfit he'd chosen in his mind, and rushed out of his flat, making the ten minute walk a fast two minute run. Honestly, he wasn't surprised to see that she was still waiting for him. He knew it sounded quite cocky, but he was sure that _most_ women would actually just wait for him. Daphne looked like she probably could have stayed there another twenty minutes before she finally decided to leave. It just made his ego blow up all the more.

"Sorry, it was a busy day at the office," he apologized, glad that he was in shape. Two years ago he'd never have been able to run like that and not be dying, gasping for air in the end. "I got here as soon as I could."

"It's fine," she said, smiling at him, "It's really just very beautiful out here, I didn't mind because of everything to look at."

He snorted to himself. He was so tired of every single one of the slags he brought around commenting on the view. Of _course_ it had a nice view, he was Draco _Malfoy_, he wouldn't just live anywhere. "Well I'm glad you stayed. I know this nice little place up the road where-"

"Actually," she interrupted, looking slightly nervous, "I was wondering if I could pick?"

He blinked, caught off guard. This could be a bit dangerous. If she suggested somewhere in London Draco had to assume it was because Astoria worked there and Daphne assumed someone would see them and pass along the word. Though Draco would be glad to be free of Astoria for the moment, he wasn't alright with the idea of not having her around anymore at all. The girls he brought around always knew they were playing the "other woman" and most of them were okay with anywhere and anything suggested, as though thinking that if they did anything he wanted them to do that it would sweep him off his feet. "What did you have in mind?"

She smiled. "You'll just have to trust me," she stated, in what he assumed was supposed to be a mysterious tone.

"Well, I don't," he answered flatly, which she clearly wasn't expecting. "London is off limits."

Daphne turned a nice shade of pink. "I was actually going to suggest Cobling Square."

It was another magical village not too far outside of Cambridge. Draco had been there once or twice, the place had its fair share of places to eat and things to do, but he'd never thought anything spectacular of it. It worked in his favor, however, Astoria hated Cambridge, she had gotten a bad case of food poisoning last time they'd been out that way and it seemed she blamed the whole city for one cafés mistake.

He couldn't shake the feeling that Daphne might be trying to set him up somehow, but in the end he decided it didn't matter if Astoria found out or not. He wasn't faithful to her, and he knew that though he was trying to _not_ hurt her by not telling her about all the women he was seeing behind her back – it would probably hurt her more in the end when she found out. It was a debate he got into with himself quite often, usually after a night of drinking, and he'd tell himself he'd worked up the courage to call things off. Then, more often than not, he'd show up at her flat with declarations of love. It seemed sometimes he did the opposite of what he knew he should…which might explain how he became a Death Eater in the first place.

He willed the thoughts away and glanced over at Daphne, skimming over her outfit. Daphne was fairly attractive, as far as the women he'd been with at the Ministry went. She didn't hold a candle to Astoria, but Daphne wasn't bad looking. Her breasts were the biggest he'd ever seen, and he'd be lying if he said they weren't the sole reason he'd decided to pursue her. He'd spent the past six months wondering what they looked like underneath her robes, and he had a feeling he'd be finding that out rather soon.

She had very light brown hair, that she always tossed into a casual bun, tonight being no exception. Her eyes were almost the same color, though her eyebrows and eyelashes were dark. Her nose came to a sharp point, and was a little on the large side, but her plump lips and nice teeth made up for it. He'd always assumed she was average build based on her loose robes, but now that she was dressed casually he saw she did carry some extra weight on her.

Weight wasn't an issue to Draco, as long as it wasn't _too _extreme. He'd been with a variety of women, but he preferred them to have Astoria's half-starved frame. _Or the Weasley's_, he thought to himself, before realizing what he'd been thinking. He would be seeing her again tomorrow, he realized.

But, back onto the matter at hand, he would say Daphne was at least a 5 on his scale of how she looked. He realized he probably should compliment her as he'd been very obviously checking her out. "You look fantastic," he said. "I'll go wherever you want to go."

She beamed, and extended her arm for him, and in moments they apparated.

Draco was relieved to find that she hadn't lied about where she was taking him, and they strolled the streets hand-in-hand, him pretending to listen to her life story. Why did they always want to tell him their life story? He didn't care. He was sure that Matilda had told Daphne everything that had gone on during their date, and he wondered why she didn't seem to be cross with him when he did the same things he always did. Told her how beautiful her eyes were, how nice she smelled, opened doors for her, told her the same things about himself and his quest for "true love". It was just a routine he'd found that worked, and so he stuck with it until it didn't anymore. He was used to it ending the same way, so there was really no need to change it.

"Tonight's the grand opening for a place called Mortessin's," Daphne declared. "I was actually hoping you'd escort me there. I put in reservations earlier, but if you think that you'd rather go back to Aging Stones-"

"No, sounds good," Draco interrupted. He was finding it hard to not feel bored out of his mind at the moment. Daphne didn't have much of a personality, how had he not noticed before? Or was it simply the fact that now that she was out with him he'd just completely lost interest?

He had to give Mortessin's some credit, the place was magnificent looking even from the outside. It wasn't very big, but it was brightly lit up, and it seemed the entire front of it had windows so large it might as well all be glass. There were floating lanterns as lights, the walls were a beige while the floors were a dark wood, and you could smell the delicious food from halfway down the road. By the time they made it inside Draco was actually salivating with hunger.

The food was delicious; the restaurant played very soft, soothing music, and their elf wine was strong even to a heavy drinker like Draco. Daphne accepted his offer of a glass but even as Draco drained his third he hadn't offered her anymore. He could tell she was upset by it, but like they all did, she didn't dare to say anything out loud about it.

They were nearly done with their meal when Weasley walked in.

She was wearing a new, curve-fitting dress of emerald green and wore heels that had to have been at least three inches high, which would probably put her at Draco's shoulders if they stood near each other. Her long fire-like hair was down in its natural wave, and though he'd always grown up despising all of the red-headed gits because of it – for some reason he found he couldn't look away. Perhaps it was the expression of happiness on her face at seeing the inside of the place, or the way the lights reflected onto her skin making her seem almost golden, or just how nice she filled out her gown. Whatever it was, Draco felt his breath hitch at the sight, and a band of sweat break out on his forehead.

He convinced himself it was because of the elf wine, but he didn't seem to snap out of it until she noticed him and her smile evaporated. She glanced from him to the woman at the table beside him, and narrowed her eyes. Draco felt his stomach drop, then. He'd forgotten she worked at the _Prophet_, which meant there was a chance that she'd met Astoria at least once or twice, since she was always there having lunch with Rita.

Ginny made her way to his table and flung her hair over her shoulder, a fake smile etched on her face. "Hello, Daphne," she said, and if Draco would have a drink in his mouth he would have spit it out. "I didn't know you and Draco knew each other."

"Oh…we work together…at the Ministry," Daphne's face was bright pink now, and she had taken to looking at her nearly empty salad that sat in front of her.

"Oh, so this is purely work related? Well, in that case, how about I join you? I'm actually here for work too." She waved her wand and summoned a chair, and then sat down at the circular table, grinning. "I'm trying to get on with writing the Quidditch updates for the paper," she explained to Draco, as if he'd just asked her what kind of work she was doing. "But before they let me write an article that so many people read, I have to start small. So for now I'm a critic of whatever form they need me to be. New cafés, new broomsticks, new hair potions - you name it."

She didn't take her eyes off Daphne the entire time she spoke, though the latter was still looking at her food, her face turning pinker by the second.

Draco cleared his throat, not liking the fact that someone else was making the rules. It was _his_ bloody life, after all, and if he wanted to screw around on Astoria then he bloody well would! And that was most certainly the real Draco thinking it, not the alcohol that he continued to keep drinking. "You two know each other?" He asked.

Ginny nodded when it was evident that Daphne wouldn't. "Oh yes. Daphne and I go back years… What are the two of you here for-?"

"Where's Potter?" Draco cut in.

Ginny blinked. "He's…he's working. He's busy."

Daphne seemed to have recovered from Ginny's shocking entrance and snorted out loud at the statement, which caused Ginny's face to turn a shocking shade of red.

"Where's _Astoria_?" Ginny replied, her tone sounding just as hot as Draco was sure her face was at the moment.

"Probably at home…She doesn't care for Cambridge."

"Well, Ginny," Daphne said, her voice almost sounding pleading. "Unfortunately we probably should head out. Have a nice evening!"

She fled so quickly that Draco couldn't rise from his chair fast enough before she was already outside, waiting. He took his time with her absence, and glanced at Ginny, who seemed to be breathing a bit heavier than usual, but whose face was slowly turning back to its natural color. "I didn't know that you and Astoria were friends," Draco stated casually.

"We're not. I can't stand her, actually. She writes rubbish and she hangs around people who write rubbish, too. But what you and Daphne are doing is wrong."

"You have no idea what it is that we're doing."

"Really, Malfoy? You two just _happened_ to come to a restaurant opening that the _Prophet_ has been building up for months, alone? Dressed as you are?"

"This is how I normally dress, I always look my best," Draco cried, feeling slightly insulted.

Ginny huffed.

"Besides all of that, Astoria wouldn't mind us coming here. If you'd spotted us at my flat then there might be a problem."

"I'm sure that's your next destination." She met his eyes, then. Hers were a deep brown, they made the arms on his arms stand up with the intensity showing in them. He'd always thought that he'd never find eyes that affected him as much as Astoria's, and he was being proven wrong. Astoria looked at him with admiration and irritation, Ginny looked at him with anger and disgust. She made him feel like he was nothing of any importance without saying a single word…Until she spoke and confirmed it. "I knew that you'd never change. Craigston, for some reason, seems to think you're different, more mature - but you're not. Maybe in some ways, but you're still the immature guy you were back at Hogwarts. You do what pleases you and that's the only thing you care about. _That's_ why you'll never get on with MLES. What do you know about compassion? What do you know about putting your life in potential danger to protect someone else? What do you know about caring for someone else's feelings?"

He wanted to retort. He wanted to blow up the table she sat at and have her thrown right out of the window. The only reason he didn't was because he thought she might actually be right, and the fact that that bothered him – _bothered him_. "I'll see you tomorrow," he replied, his voice very stiff, and paid the bill, joining Daphne outside.

Neither of them spoke until they had walked around the block, and were out of the view of Mortessin's, and that was when Daphne jumped him. It was so sudden he reached for his wand out of impulse, but she was less intoxicated, and therefore faster. She had him pinned against the building and her mouth pressed against his before he could even register what was happening.

He struggled with himself internally. Ginny was right, he kept thinking. Here he was in an alley with a woman he didn't give two shits about, while a woman he sometimes gave _a_ shit about was sitting at her flat - probably crying over him - and he felt mostly unaffected by all of it.

He should go home, he kept thinking. He should just call it a night, go take a shower, catch some sleep before having to get up for work in the morning and…Well, but then Daphne's hand travelled lower on his stomach and his mind changed. Even if he _didn't_ like the woman that was with him he still had wasted six months trying to get to where he was at this exact moment, and it would be such a waste to not get to see those breasts.

"Your place or mine?" He asked between sloppy kisses, and she pulled far enough away to apparate them both.

They landed directly inside of a very tiny cottage. It smelled faintly of cats and Draco had a feeling it wasn't going to be clean enough for his liking, but Daphne started up again and he pushed that from his mind.

He could taste traces of the elf wine on her tongue that she lightly pressed into his mouth with so much inexperience it made him wince. She was rather good with her hands, however, which were currently still rubbing on his stomach, slowly getting lower.

He reached up to her hair and pulled her bun down, letting her hair fall across her shoulders. Daphne sighed with content at that motion, and began to maneuver him backwards, as though leading him to her bedroom.

As she did so, Draco took the time to begin the work the buttons on her blouse, fumbling with them moreso than he usually would, and silently cursing himself as he worked. When he got to the third one he finally just ripped the shirt, making a mental note to go to whatever waste bin she'd found it out and try to replace it for her. The motion seemed to make her come alive, and she broke from him then, barely managing to get out a quick, "Follow me," before she lead the way into the next room.

He walked at a steady pace behind her, taking in the way she slowly removed articles of clothing before him, finally becoming completely naked in the doorway. Her arse was flat and just looked fat. It had a dimple that might have been cute had the rest of it been more toned, but so far he was not enjoying what he was seeing, despite all the alcohol in him.

She turned to face him and that was when he saw the breasts he'd been practically dreaming about. They, at least, were everything he hoped they'd be. They were finely shaped, surprisingly perky, and her tiny nipples were already erect with anticipation. With her hair down, and being completely naked before him, he had to say overall she wasn't bad. He'd certainly had worse.

The fumbled onto her bed and she started to kiss him again, grinding her naked body against his fully clothed one, as though ready to explode at any second. Draco was half tempted to let her as she continued to moan and grind herself against his covered crotch, thinking that this would definitely be a first for him. "Draco, please…" she panted, and so he brought his mouth to her breast, kissing along it until he got to the nipple, listening to her breath quicken as he did so.

He lightly touched his tongue against the peak, noting how her entire body seemed to quiver at the sensation, and her growl turned almost animalistic. Well, that was easy enough. He could probably do that a few more times and just simply be done for the evening.

Instead he continued to lick and suck on her sensitive skin, the hand that wasn't holding him up traveling down her body until it got between her thighs, and he smirked slightly at how slick she was. He didn't have to do much for this woman. Perhaps it had been awhile.

He usually liked to tease the clit for a bit, rub on it some, make them purr, but since Daphne seemed so close to release he simply shoved a finger inside her, curled it slightly, and once she cried out loudly he repeated the motion.

He'd never felt someone get so wet before. That was what was on his mind as he continued to thrust his finger inside of her, and tease her breasts. Daphne's hips were rising to every motion he made, and when he inserted another finger it was only moments before she spasmed beneath him, squeezing her legs closed impulsively, making it nearly impossible for him to continue to finger fuck her.

He waited for her to calm down, and watched her face as she composed herself and collected her normal air-flow back.

It was then that he noticed he wasn't hard. He wasn't even semi-erect.

That knowledge shocked him. It wasn't as though there had been anything bad with the experience. In fact, if he had to rate her, she was better than most girls at the Ministry had been when he'd done the same for them. She wasn't a terrible looking woman, and she was so wet that just the thought of getting his member anywhere near her opening should have had him straight at attention.

But it didn't. And this was a problem.

It had to be Ginny, he thought to himself angrily. He had been fighting to keep her words from resurfacing in his brain, but it seemed like the more he attempted to shut them out, the louder and louder they go. Why did how she thought about him bother him? Why now? Why couldn't it have been on an evening where his plans were simply to go home and take a nap?

Daphne sat up to study him in the dim light from the moon shining into her bedroom. "What's wrong?" She asked.

"I don't feel well," he lied.

"Was it me? Or-?"

"No. I think it's the elf wine. I think I should go home."

She startled. "Go…home? Why don't you just stay here? Maybe you'll feel better in a bit and-"

"I won't. I need to go home and shower. I've got a busy day ahead of me tomorrow, so the sooner the better. I'll see you Monday." He needed to get the fuck out of there, and fast.

He apparated from her living room, the alcohol all the sudden making him feel slightly dizzy and disoriented. He was so bloody _fucked_, he continued to tell himself, attempting to shake the wine out of his system, to erase the events of the evening from his mind, to tell himself that the Weasley's words didn't matter.

When he opened his eyes and found himself standing outside Astoria's apartment he knew he was lying.

Maybe he was a terrible person.

**oOo**

A/N: I made a mistake last chapter. The name of the story was Ginny Weasley and the CURSE of the Firstborn! I just wanted to say thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, I'm so glad you are enjoying it so far, I'm actually having a lot of fun with writing this.

Also, I read over this very quickly to check for any errors, but if I missed anything please let me know and I will correct it!


	3. It's a Great Day to Be Hexed

Sorry About That

**Chapter Three**

It's a Great Day to Be Hexed

Saturday at one, when Draco arrived to meet Craigston, he was using an ice pack to hide a black eye, and wore long sleeves to cover what looked like scales that were coating most of his body. He'd tried every potion he could think of to get rid of the two, but whatever magic Astoria had used to hex him had been stronger than anything he'd ever had done to him before. He'd floo'd Markus in a fit of desperation, and Markus had simply laughed and told him to try to heal it the muggle way. Draco had felt quite stupid with the ice against his face, but he had to admit it was soothing the throbbing.

He had done what he could to ignore the feeling in his stomach that was telling him it was probably over with Astoria now, but for some reason it seemed to keep bubbling up into his throat, making him feel as though he might get sick – or worse – _cry_.

At first it had gone well enough. Astoria had answered the door in her pyjamas, her eyes red-rimmed, her hair a mess. Draco's stomach had lurched with guilt when he'd seen her like that, and it grew even worse when she threw herself into his arms, bursting into a fit of tears.

Normally when that happened (as it did happen, quite often) Draco would simply peel her off of him and hold her at arm's length, telling her he was sorry he was such a twat, and that he would change, and that she was the One for him, and then she would kiss him and she would lead him to her bedroom.

It seemed like she was expecting this time to be no different, so after she cried on him for awhile and Draco kept awkwardly patting her back she had broken away, staring at him, causing him to flinch from the intensity in her eyes. "What's happened?" She asked, as though she could tell from simply looking at him that there was bad news.

He had swallowed twice, opened his mouth to speak and said nothing twice as well, and then stood there looking at the wall to his right. It was queer how Draco had no issues with treating women like garbage, and had never thought twice before saying something rude to Astoria, but he had never gone out of his way to break _her _heart. It didn't matter with anyone else.

It hit Draco then that perhaps he truly did care about the girl before him. He obviously didn't want to be calling things off with her, nor did he want to upset her, but he knew without a doubt in him at all that though he could _try_ to change with her – he wouldn't. He would be faithful for awhile, maybe he could even do it for years, but one day he would go back to shagging other women for sport, because he'd already done it. The first time he'd cheated, he'd felt terrible. The second time he'd felt a bit bad. The third time it no longer bothered him at all. The cycle would wind up just continuing the rest of their life. _That_ was why he'd put off marrying her as long as he had. He was happy with her, but not as happy as he thought he should be.

Maybe he'd never be that happy with anyone.

"Draco?" Astoria had asked again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I cheated on you," he said, so quickly that he was surprised she understood him.

She blinked. "Yes…with Rhonda…I remember."

That was news. He had been under the impression by the way Astoria hexed the girl and posted the article that she'd thought Rhonda was lying. Sure, Astoria had accused him of trying to sleep around, but she'd never flat out accused him of actually _doing _it. He'd always thought she was a bit suspicious, but never really knew the truth. That she thought that Rhonda was just trying to cause problems between them. The fact that she believed her and still stayed with Draco made him somehow feel even worse. "Well…not _just_ with Rhonda."

It was her turn to swallow now. Draco couldn't meet her gaze. "Who else?" She asked. "How many?"

The honest answer was fourteen but he knew if he told her that he might not wind up leaving her apartment alive. "Is that really necessary?" He asked. His mouth felt suddenly very dry.

"Yes." She spat. "It's _very _necessary."

He said nothing.

"Answer me, Draco."

Again, he said nothing.

She screamed then, causing him to meet her eye, and that was when she screeched, "_Legilimens_!"

Draco had once been very skilled in Occlumency, though he was out of practice as he hadn't had the need to use it in years. Honestly, if it wasn't for the alcohol wreaking havoc in his system he would have been easily able to shield himself. Astoria was skilled in a lot of magic, but Legilimency wasn't her strongest spell. She was much better at brewing veritaserum.

He tried to hide the truth from her by focusing as much as he could on what he knew he needed to do, but his emotions were haywire at the time and he knew there was no denying it. Luckily, Astoria didn't try to dig too far into the memories, situations, or people, it seemed she just wanted to know the number and nothing else.

When she broke the connection there had been a long silence. She had just simply stood there holding her wand, with a look Draco had never seen just frozen on her face. It made him uncomfortable, but when he reached forward as though to comfort her - that was when she came alive and hexed him.

At first he thought perhaps she'd used an Unforgivable curse on him, because he was filled with an excruciating amount of pain. He'd fallen to the ground writhing around in agony, and then all the sudden the severe pain had slowly began to subside. That was when he noticed his skin was growing scales, and she'd somehow managed to throw him out of her flat, so that he lay on the floor mat by the front door

He'd immediately apparated to Aging Stones, glad to be in the cover of the moonlight, and rushed back to his place.

For the better half of the evening he'd tried every counter jinx he knew to get rid of the hexes, but nothing seemed to work. After the scales had grown in all the way they'd just started to itch so much his finger nails were getting caked with blood, and it seemed that might be the only way to get rid of them.

By one pm the following afternoon, the time he needed to meet Craigston, Draco had succeeded in ridding about a quarter of his body of the scales, covered his skin in nearly two vials of Anti-Itch Potion, and had no success on getting rid of his black eye.

Thankfully the scales had started from his chest down, and he was sure that Astoria had done it lest he'd had plans on leaving her flat to go and shag someone else. If there was anything she was good at, it was revenge, and Draco knew that he wouldn't be getting out of this with just a bad hex. He was sure he could go to St. Mungo's and have somebody remove it for him, but he also couldn't skip out on the Saturday meetings with Potter if he wanted to get on with MLES. So he'd have to suffer through it for a few more hours and then go to the hospital afterwards.

Craigston had chosen not to comment on seeing Draco holding an ice-pack to his face, and instead had simply taken hold of his arm (which had caused Draco to wince with pain) and had let him lead the way.

Potter's house was just as impressive the second time seeing it, and Draco scratched at his arm where Craigston had held onto him, the skin becoming irritated by contact with another person. He had to literally force himself to quit itching once he'd started, and the urge to do it was so strong it made his hands twitch and his eyes water.

"Are you alright?" Craigston asked, finally, as though irritated by Draco's behaviour.

"Fine," he managed to squeeze out, before he couldn't control it anymore and begin to scratch at the scales.

Craigston watched him for a moment, before closing his eyes and sighing heavily. "Let me guess, Astoria finally caught you?"

"No. I confessed." Draco admitted.

Craigston seemed surprised by those words, and had a far off look in his eyes, as though deep in thought. A moment later Draco's need to scratch went away, and when he peeled back his sleeves he was shocked to see the scales had gone, before he noticed Craigston casually slip his wand up his sleeve. "What brought you to confess?"

Draco glanced at Potter's house once more, debating if he should be honest or not. In the end he simply decided that it wouldn't really be wrong for him to take all of the credit for it. _Truthfully_ Ginny hadn't told him to confess, she had simply told him he was worthless. He'd chosen to own up to it on his own. "Astoria is too good for me," Draco said, finally, thinking that it really wasn't a lie.

"We'll give it until the next _Witch Weekly_ comes out, and see what you say about her then."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Yeah, maybe…Anyway, thanks."

"It's a good thing you did confess to her. Had you not, I wouldn't have done it…The Reptilian Curse is something not many people know about anymore, they began to ban it from use because if it isn't used perfectly it can cause irrevocable damage…You seem to be fine, so don't worry," which Draco let out a breath at hearing. "I'm surprised Astoria was able to control her anger enough to make sure it was cast properly. She really could have injured you. We can press charges."

"No…I think I deserved it." Draco muttered.

"I did, however, leave you with your black eye. You'll have to see a skilled Potioneer to reverse that one."

"Didn't you used to be a Potioneer?" Draco said, annoyance in his voice.

"Alas, I did. But those times are behind me now."

Draco knew he was leaving the black eye because he felt like he deserved it, but he couldn't complain too much, because the mark on his face was far less painful than the scales that covered his body. He could always come up with an excuse for a black eye.

The meeting at Potter's this time was strictly business. He was the one who answered the door and he led them into a room that had a very long table in it and not much else. It was an expensive table and the wood shine so brightly Draco could use it as a mirror if he wanted to. The windows were covered with thick, heavy curtains of another very deep red, and the chandelier looked as though it might actually be made of diamonds. It cast a low light into the room, giving it the appearance that this was clearly a room that was for business only, and nothing else.

Draco had pulled out his regular quill and his quick-quotes quill. He usually had the quick-quotes quill jot down the essentials of the meetings whereas Draco hand-wrote everything he knew Craigston would think of as important. Mostly he attended meetings when Craigston was interrogating people, Craigston liked to know if the person he was addressing made any slight facial expression after hearing certain phrases. He wanted to know if he was the only one who assumed the other party was lying, or if they seemed displeased at his proposals.

For the most part, Potter was all business. They spoke briefly of the new terms for joining the Auror department, Potter's unique training program for his potentials, and about a few cases Draco had no real interest in.

When it got to the Donovan case, Draco perked up. He glanced at Craigston to see if he would be sent out of the room again, but Craigston continued to talk. "It seems he has held quite a rally in Scotland. I had some of my best MLES officers get out there to make sure nothing got out of hand, but it turned into a riot soon enough. Three of my best were stunned, and a few muggles were taken. Officer Maglin is still in St. Mungo's recovering from a curse we've never heard of. Donovan is serious, and is becoming a bigger threat than we previously assumed. Obviously, I will not be sending anymore MLES officers on the case, and though our Hit Wizards have more than volunteered, I think this might be becoming more of a job for the Aurors."

Draco tuned out for a moment, knowing very well this was the most crucial part of the conversation. He'd been interest in the Donovan case from the beginning, when he was simply a wizard who enjoyed playing harsh pranks on muggles. Draco had brought the case to Craigston's attention almost two years prior, and Craigston had looked it over, and then allowed Draco the opportunity to train with MLES as back up, in case he were needed, simply because he had shown so much interest.

Now that three of Craigston's top officers were out, that meant that Draco would probably be called in for reinforcement. True, Donovan was most likely going beyond the Aurors, but that didn't mean that MLES would let go of it entirely.

Draco had settled for MLES when he knew that he'd _probably _never get to be an Auror due to his history with Dark Arts. He'd originally looked into joining the Hit Wizards, but everyone knew Draco hated to work in a team, (as he occasionally seemed to leave others behind and was not good with authority), so he'd chosen MLES by default.

At first he'd been disappointed in the squad, but as time wore on he got more and more used to the idea. He wouldn't be making any more money if he switched, in fact, there might actually be a pay cut, but the hours and the benefits were worth it. He knew if he could prove himself in MLES, that within a 5 year time span he could get on with the Aurors. And learning everything there was to know about the Donovan case now was sure to help him get on the right track.

"…but we can send Titus out, he's one of our bests," Potter had finished, causing Draco to snap back into the conversation at hand. "Right now you're sure he's not straying from Scotland?"

"We're trying to put wards up that won't allow him to enter Great Britain, but we're not sure how powerful he is. He's got enough brains to work out a completely new spell we'd never heard of before that has put Maglin in an almost comatose state, breaking out in sweat, and screaming in pain every time there is any form of light on him. If anything else, we can be sure the wards will hold him off for a week, at least, which is why it's imperative that we get your best men out there sooner, rather than later."

Potter seemed to consider this. Draco took note of how long it took for the bloke to ponder. What was the hold up? Clearly this was a situation that needed attention now, and not in three weeks. "Titus is one of the best, along with Newfreid, and Corflew… We've been tied up with the Johnson case, however, but if you think this is more important…"

Draco blinked. He was about to stand up and say with as much sarcasm as he could muster that if the _Minister of Magic_ thought a case was important enough to come to Potter for help that by _all means_ continue on with your own case and ignore his plead, but Craigston silenced him with a glance in his eyes. Instead Draco clenched his jaw and began to tap his foot impatiently on the carpet.

"I understand the Johnson situation," Craigston began, with an apologetic tone in his voice. "But I wouldn't be asking you if I didn't think that this was important."

Draco calmed down, slightly. To be fair, he'd never heard of the Johnson case, he didn't know what exactly was going on there. Potter was Head Auror for a reason, and if he obviously assumed Donovan wasn't as severe, then he probably had good reason. Craigston had apparently already considered this road block, which was why he was so composed about it.

Potter glanced at Draco then, before agreeing. "I'll speak with them Monday about relocating to Scotland for now, to try and put an end to this before it grows out of hand. We'll report back next Saturday and let you know how it's going, and if we have any leads."

When the meeting was finally over, Potter asked for Draco and Craigston to stay and have lunch, and once Draco saw Ginny was outside setting up, he wanted nothing more than to leave. Craigston, however, accepted for both of them, and Harry summoned a house elf to start their meal for them.

Draco scowled at how polite he was to the creature, saying "please" and "thank you" as though they were worth it. He knew that Granger was in office for the rights of underprivileged non-humans, so he assumed that her ways had rubbed off on Potter. He, for one, thought the idea was foolish, and had told Granger more than once upon seeing her around the office. The two of them had been on rather friendly terms, considering their past, but they would never be found eating lunch together.

Ginny smiled at the lot of them as they made their way out to the area she'd set up. She was using her wand to set the table, and didn't look at Draco at all as if they'd shared an exchange the previous night.

The tablecloth she'd used was an off-white lace, and she'd added beige candles, along with plates that had folded napkins on them. Draco thought the whole thing was a bit much for just a simple lunch, but he figured his mother was exactly the same way. Ginny didn't come from money, so maybe she just liked to have a show of Harry's.

...And thinking of money, Draco made a mental note to check his Gringott's account after leaving to make sure Astoria hadn't taken his entire hoard out.

The house elf brought out roast beef sandwiches and a salad for them to dig in to, with Yorkshire pudding to finish it up. Draco waited for everyone else to help themselves before he put anything on his plate, and he concentrated on eating, careful to take the most bites when there was a silence, to avoid being drug into conversation too soon.

"What did you get around to last night?" Craigston asked Potter, making small talk.

Potter smiled, "Well Ginny and I actually spent all Friday and last night in our home in Dublin. We just got in right before you arrived."

Draco stopped chewing completely, and turned to glance at Ginny, who had turned red and wasn't looking at anyone.

How could Ginny have been in Dublin when Ginny was at Mortessin's? Draco looked at Potter then, to see how he reacted with his lie, but Potter continued to talk about their Dublin home as though it was the reality. As though it had really happened.

Draco couldn't catch Ginny's eye for the remainder of the meal, and that made him antsy, as his mind was going crazy. Ginny had told Daphne that Potter was working, and Daphne had scoffed, making Ginny angry...

How he wished now that he hadn't run out on the girl the night before, or ruined things, perhaps perpetually, with Astoria. Now it seemed he'd never find out what exactly was going on with the couple he saw so often.

"So, Malfoy, Puddlemere plays the Arrows tomorrow," Potter said suddenly, grinning. "Are you coming to the match?"

"Unfortunately no," Draco admitted, forlornly. "I was late to buy tickets and by the time I finally got around to ordering they were sold out."

"Ginny and I have two extra," he said, which surprised Draco so much he thought he'd misheard him at first. "If you and Astoria would like to join. We have box seats."

Draco wanted to roll his eyes at the _box seats_ comment. "Well, I think that...Astoria wouldn't be joining me."

Ginny snorted, which caused Draco to narrow his eyes. "Oh, really? Perhaps she doesn't like Quidditch _or _Cambridge?"

Potter looked confused, but Draco decided just to lay it on the table. "Actually, she loves Quidditch. But I confessed that I've been unfaithful to her and so she called things off. Which would explain my black eye, that all of you were _most kind_ not to point out."

Potter blinked, "What black eye?"

Draco glanced at Craigston who shook his head slightly, as though to say the spell had worn off, and Draco touched the skin that he swore had only just been throbbing in pain. It felt normal. It must have gone away, presumably before his meeting had begun.

Draco felt his face flush then, and gripped his fork angrily, feeling foolish. _Of course_ the charm would wear off and he would have admitted something he didn't want to admit, in front of people he didn't want to look inferior to. _Of course_. "Then never mind. You weren't being kind. I take that compliment back."

"Didn't sound like a compliment to me," Ginny retorted.

"Then perhaps you weren't listening," Draco snapped back.

Potter cleared his throat. "Anyway, Draco, do you want to come to the match with us?"

Draco wanted to ask why he was being invited. He wanted to know if this was a ploy to set him up. He wanted to laugh and say he'd rather be bitten by a basilisk than spend any more time than was necessary with the annoyingly confusing hot-tempered couple he was currently sitting with. But the thought of finding out their obvious secret was too much for him, and in the end it was his curiosity that led him to accept.

Ginny huffed at his answer and shoved a rather large bite of salad in her mouth, which caused Draco to smirk. He'd find out the answers soon enough...he was rather good at that.

**oOo**

Draco felt strange apparating at Potter's house without Craigston by his side. He'd actually had a mild anxiety attack on his walk up to ring the doorbell, and argued with himself a few times on whether or not he should go home, assuming this all might be a ploy to somehow bring about his demise.

He'd had a long night of drinking and feeling sorry for himself, and had woken up hours later than he normally would, with just thirty minutes to attempt to get ready for the match. He'd tried to floo Astoria a few times but every time he poked his head into her flat she was never home, and though he knew she was probably with Rita scheming over a nasty article to write about him, or staying a few nights with her sister, he'd chosen not to try to hunt her down like his instinct was telling him.

Now here he was with the people he'd never once assumed he'd be spending any time with, going to a Quidditch match, and the fact that Astoria had always accompanied him to them was putting him in a terrible state of melancholia.

It grew worse when Ginny answered the door in tight trousers and her dark blue Puddlemere United shirt, causing her hair to stand out even more than it already did. Why was it every time he saw her she just looked _amazing_? How was that even fair? Potter had this woman, or, rather, "had" this woman, this incredible home, a fantastic job – and Draco had just lost everything that he hadn't even known he wanted in the first place. All because of the woman in front of him that he was constantly trying to deny that he lusted over.

She even had the nerve to look slightly nervous to see him, and for a moment they stood there merely looking each other over, until her brown eyes met his grey, and she turned red, realizing she'd been staring. "You're a bit early," she said, finally, moving aside to let him in.

"I'm always early."

She snorted. "You make it impossible to keep a conversation going."

"I didn't know we were attempting to be civil or I would have brought my book on manners and conversation starters. I've just finished the chapter on things to talk about over tea, so perhaps you could join me for-"

She actually punched him in the arm, laughing slightly.

"What the fuck?" He cried, grabbing the place she'd hit him. It hadn't even been _light_. He was sure it might bruise.

"Oh, grow up, Malfoy."

He was about to tell her off when he noticed the smile on her face and the twinkle in her eye. Perhaps she was teasing him. That was something he wasn't used to. He could say that in his six years with Astoria they'd gotten on well, had a remarkable sex life, and spoke passionately about all kinds of topics, but he wouldn't describe any of their time together as fun, or silly. It seemed that Ginny liked that sort of thing, however, and he wasn't sure he knew how to relax enough to do those things often.

He chose to simply continue to rub his arm, and change the subject. "Where's Potter?"

She blanched, then. "Harry should be here soon...As I said...you're a bit early."

He tried to meet her eyes but she was avoiding his. "So...he isn't home, then?"

"Not yet. He's working. I actually would fancy a cup of tea, would you? Maybe you can enlighten me with your _exhilarating_ conversations." She was quick to change the subject and to head into the kitchen, which Draco was curious to see.

It wasn't as large as he thought it would be, in fact, it was probably one of the smallest rooms in the house. Draco had been in their loo down the hall the other day that was probably at least twice the size of this room, but like everything else in the home, it was anything but average.

Ginny used her wand to get everything set up and had him a cup ready faster than he'd even known was possible. He was sure the tea hadn't had time to reach the proper temperature in her rush, but found when he tasted it, it was perfect. She must have known a rather advanced warming charm that he didn't. He made a mental note to ask her about it, if they ever found themselves on better terms.

She hopped onto the counter and sat, facing him. "So, Draco...Wow me with the best your book taught you." She tilted her head to the side as she spoke, a small smile on her lips, and if Draco wasn't mistaken, he thought for sure she was flirting with him.

"Well," he replied, leaning against the cabinet and grinning, "I don't know if you will really be able to handle how smooth I am with all of this, but... _Lovely weather we're having, yeah_?"

Ginny burst into a laugh that showed all of her teeth, and despite himself, Draco chuckled with her. Her laugh was absurdly loud and obnoxious, and for some reason he couldn't _not_ join in with her because of that. "You're right, I don't think I've ever found myself to be so intrigued," she joked, taking another sip of her tea once her laughter had calmed down.

The fell into another silence and sipped their tea, but Draco felt that a lot of tension had left the room, at least, and that was a plus.

"Do you always have to dress like that?" Ginny questioned, after a moment, causing Draco to frown.

"Dress like what?"

"Dress like you're about to attend a funeral. It's a match for Merlin's sake, and you're dressed as though you want to appear to be too rich for anybody to approach you. I'm surprised you've been with so many women, you look downright unfriendly."

He glanced down at his outfit of choice. "I don't think there's anything wrong with dressing your best. If that makes me look _unfriendly_, well, then perhaps they're not good enough to talk to me."

"You look like you have a stick up your arse at all times."

That actually _really_ offended him. "I do not."

"You do. It's been the subject of a lot of jokes at the _Prophet_. I'm not saying this to upset you; I'm saying this because I want to help you."

"I take my appearance and my job seriously. I don't care what the lowlifes at the _Prophet_ think about me-"

"_I_ work at the _Prophet_," she warned.

"You're one of the exceptions, then," he said lamely. Her comment was bugging him though. "What exactly is wrong with dressing my best? You never know who you might need to impress-"

"Do you dress that way to impress women?" She interrupted.

The silliness from the earlier conversation immediately evaporated. Now Draco simply felt uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how to answer that, because he wasn't sure if her question was the truth or not. He'd never really put much thought into why he dressed up all the time, but he supposed perhaps a lot of it _did_ have to do with wanting women to recognize he was someone who came from money, and someone who had enough of it to go around. Or maybe it was a self-esteem issue. Maybe he just felt better when he looked better. Maybe it stemmed from him trying to rebuild the Malfoy name. It could have been anything, really. "I don't know," he said, finally, because he wasn't sure how to answer that. "Maybe, some of it, yeah."

She looked him over again. "Did you really confess to Astoria?"

"I'm sure once she posts and article about me in Monday's release you'll see that I did not lie."

Ginny looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe I misjudged you, then."

"Do you want to know why I cheated, too?" His voice was hot with the words. "Because by all means, since we're picking me apart, let's get everything out."

"I think you cheated because you didn't really love her like you thought you did. But the thought of hurting her was too much, so you did it behind her back. I think you did it in the beginning probably just because you were young and had been with her for so long, and then after awhile just because it was easy. Because girls like you and you like them, so why not?"

For a moment they merely looked at each other. He was about to ask if that was why Potter wasn't there, if Ginny was the Astoria in this situation and had simply forgiven Potter, but before he could, the sound of someone apparating filled the room, and the moment had passed.

"Oh, you're here," Potter said, walking into the kitchen and pausing in the process of removing his scarf when he saw Draco. He glanced at Ginny for a moment before he plastered a fake smile on his face. "The portkey will be ready in about ten minutes, so I'm going to just change real quick. Ginny, can you join me?"

Ginny hopped off the counter, giving Draco an almost apprehensive look, before nodding. "Sure. We'll be right back."

Draco watched them leave, the curiosity almost becoming too much.

**A/N: **I'm really excited with the reveal of what's going on between Harry and Ginny, and I don't even know why. This was a situation that I had difficulty with for a bit because I needed it to be believable, and hopefully everyone will agree with why it's that way. However, it MIGHT not be posted until the chapter after next.

Once again, thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love getting them. I am aware this chapter was a bit boring, but next chapter makes up for it, so please stick with me!


	4. Alcohol is Might

Sorry About That

**Chapter Four**

Alcohol is Might

The more alcohol Draco consumed, the more he liked Ginny. Well, truthfully, he liked her before the beer, but now that he'd had so many he'd lost count he felt like it was safe to truly admit that he might fancy her.

It was her mouth, he decided. It was the way her lips moved over her teeth, the way they stretched into a smile - and her hands. Something about the way she always seemed to be running her fingers through her hair, or the way she held a cup, and the way they looked when she gripped the railing to where they sat, jumping up and down, screaming for her team.

Actually, it was the sound of her voice, too. The passion she had for her team – Draco felt as though he too could feel it. Her laugh was obnoxious and loud, and yet for some reason he liked it.

To top it off she had an amazing body and a pretty face...And, of course, was practically married.

Potter was running around everywhere, shaking hands, greeting people, talking business with a few Aurors Draco recognized by face only. Ginny didn't seem to mind, she was engrossed in the match, which Draco felt he should too, as the game was evenly tied the entire time, and everyone was holding their breath just waiting for the snitch to be caught.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Ginny said, suddenly, causing Draco to blush at getting caught staring. "You look a little sick. Too many drinks? Or is it the fact that you know that Puddlemere is about to score so many points that your precious Goblins won't be able to keep up?"

Again with the teasing. He wasn't sure how to respond to it. He took another sip of his beer to give himself a moment to collect himself, and then decided to just stop being so uptight all the time. "I think it's you who should worry. Tucker out there looks like he's about to quit playing entirely, and then who's going to chase away the bludgers? Your team only has two players who are worth a damn."

She grinned, and he relaxed a little, it seemed his response had been good enough for her. "We'll see. You'll have to come with us to the Bats vs the Tornados match. Maybe we'll use some of your galleons to buy you some alcohol to drown away your sorrows."

He took another sip. "Maybe I'll use my winning galleons to buy you a better team shirt."

She laughed and he laughed with her. "See, Malfoy, this is how you should act more often."

"And what would you call this act?"

"Relaxed," she said simply.

He thought about that, and then joined her in cheer when Puddlemere blocked a goal. Though he was nothing near being a Puddlemere fan, he did like them loads more than the Arrows, and he'd come to cheer on the lesser of the two evils. The fact that Ginny was so interested in the match, and her team, made him feel more fired up than he had if he'd gone alone.

Actually, though he and Astoria attended numerous Quidditch matches together, he couldn't think of a time when he'd allowed himself to scream and get excited like he was right now. With Ginny he jumped up and down and yelled so much his voice was getting hoarse. With Astoria he usually sat and watched, drinking to the point of being sloppy, and Astoria would clap happily when her team made a good play, but they never cheered. When he was with her, he was always thinking that anyone could be watching him and so he needed to act professionally.

He liked being around Ginny because when he was around her he simply forgot he was a Malfoy. He forgot he was the Minister of Magic's personal assistant. He forgot he had a sketchy background. He was just a bloke at a Quidditch match having a good time.

Potter came to join them after awhile and he got as into it as the rest of them. Draco figured, in all honesty, he could have come with worse people. He'd attended quite a few Quidditch matches with Craigston on business meetings, where they sat around and talked politics and Draco had to act like he wasn't really watching the score. At least with the couple by him now, he didn't feel judged. He felt, actually, like for once he could act like the 23 year old he was, instead of the 45 year old he found himself always pretending to be.

It wasn't until Puddlemere caught the snitch signifying the match ending, and Potter kissed Ginny, that Draco wished he hadn't came. It wasn't even a long, drawn out, romantic kiss. It seemed similar to the ones that Draco gave Astoria when she was yelling at him for not caring about her feelings. But watching it happen made his stomach tighten unpleasantly, and he knew it had nothing to do with the alcohol.

"So, what do you think, Malfoy?" Potter asked, bringing him back from the melancholy place he had been. "Do you want to join us in celebration?"

He wanted to go home, if it meant more lip-locking action. For the first time, he felt that perhaps he _slightly_ understood how Astoria might be feeling, and that made it all the worse.

And then, of course, with the random thought of her came the normal sensation that came when he was smashed. He should go to her, apologize, and maybe this time he should ask her to marry him. Maybe Astoria was the best thing for him. She certainly wasn't a bad person - she actually was an amazing person - so why couldn't he just accept that she didn't have whatever the fuck it was that he thought she was lacking, and just get it over and done with?

He forced himself to snap out of it once he realized Potter and Ginny were still waiting on a response from him. Certainly going back to Potter's meant more alcohol, which meant he didn't have to go out and purchase more, and being around people had to be better than sitting around in his flat until the moment where he got pissed enough to beg Astoria back. "Sounds good," he said, and he clenched his jaw at the smile that took over Ginny's face at his words.

It seemed her excitement didn't go unnoticed by Potter, who visibly seemed to tense up for a moment, before shaking it off and acting himself again. If Draco hadn't been watching him precisely at that moment he wouldn't even have noticed he'd been affected. Ginny apparently hadn't witnessed it, because she began to go off talking to some people, perhaps inviting more of them over to join in the celebration with them.

The couple made Draco's head hurt. What was the mystery here? Potter lied about his whereabouts, Ginny covered for him, he left her alone at Quidditch matches, and then got upset when she was excited about Draco coming over. If Draco didn't know Potter better he might assume that he was just a controlling arsehole, but though Draco didn't really care for the bloke before him - he knew he was a good guy. He saved the world, after all.

When they got back to Potter's home, Ginny asked one of the house elves to set up the living room for a get-together, and Draco rolled his eyes at her politeness. "Ron and Hermione are coming," Ginny announced, putting her hair behind her ears. She glanced at Draco rather than Potter. "Do you think you can behave?"

"Granger and I work near each other at the Ministry. We can be civil. As long as she doesn't go on and on about spew."

Potter laughed, "S.P.E.W? Ron and I used to call it spew too."

"Well it seems she rubbed off on you."

"Well... yeah I guess she kinda did, yeah," him and Ginny exchanged a look that put Draco back in his sour mood. He did have to remember, Ginny and Potter had been together a long time. And even before they'd been together, they had been friends. Draco assumed they probably started talking in Second year, so they had about fourteen years worth of a relationship going on between them.

The thing that kept making it seem somehow a little worse was that Astoria knew him well. Very well, in fact. She may have even known him better than his parents. But the more he witnessed the couple in front of him the more he realized exactly how terrible he'd been to his ex-girlfriend. They'd been together for six full years and he didn't even know her favourite colour, holiday, flower, band, or book. He knew nothing about Astoria except the things that people could figure out just by looking at her: she modelled; she was friends with Rita Skeeter; she was quiet and most of the time she was a sweetheart. Draco brought out the devil in her.

He couldn't take the guilt; it was eating away at him. He was grateful when Weasley and Granger showed up, even though he could care less about Weasley.

He'd been expecting a confrontation immediately, but it seemed Granger had had a few words with her husband about minding his own. Weasley glared at Draco and made it a point not to speak to him, but didn't go out of the way to say anything rude, though it was obvious he wanted to. To avoid starting drama just because he enjoyed it, Draco excused himself over to the refreshments, and glanced over Potter's selection of beer, liquors, and wines as he waited for the rest of the crowd to show up.

"More alcohol?" Draco knew it was Ginny before he turned, and he knew by the tone of her voice that she said it with a trace of displeasure.

He hesitated. Astoria had brought up his drinking habit only three times in the years they'd been together, and she'd never mentioned it again after their second anniversary. It was a very sore subject for Draco, and it was something that angered him beyond reason. Their first fight about it had ended in Draco breaking a china cabinet, the second fight had ended in him kicking her out of his flat (from which she'd never lived with him again since – he held long grudges), and the third he called off their engagement. Though to be fair, the engagement thing probably needed to be called off anyway, as it had been his drinking that lead him to propose in the first place.

Regardless, Astoria had bit her tongue whenever they went out and he ordered more wine, or when she came to see him and he had a collection of empty bottles surrounding him. At the same time, though, she never turned him away when he showed up intoxicated, probably because that was when he was the most loving. In the end Draco just assumed that she let him continue to drink because it brought out a softer side of him. And even though she knew it was temporary and partially fake – she wanted him and she accepted it.

The whole scenario was sad.

"It's a party," he said finally.

"It's a celebration," she corrected. "You do work tomorrow, don't you?"

"I'll be fine. It's just one drink."

"How many have you had?"

He felt his face grow hot. "Who are you – my mother?"

"I have a feeling your mother never told you no to anything."

Well that certainly did it. "You know _nothing _about my mother to even make a comment like that-"

"Fine, Malfoy, drink up," she spat, and simply walked away.

He stood there blinking after her. He was filled with a rage beyond him at the fact that she'd left, and yet at the same time he couldn't help but think why hadn't Astoria ever thought to do that?

Truthfully, though, if Astoria had attempted to walk away, he probably would have grabbed her and pulled her back. He had never hit her or even come close to it, but Astoria had a way of getting under his skin like nobody else, probably because she was the best person to him and he had a way of hurting those people. Maybe if Astoria had simply been walking away from him in the beginning, or been harder to keep, maybe... Well, there was no point in dwelling on her. He couldn't fix that situation so he knew he might as well just give it up.

When more and more people started arriving Draco felt the effects of drinking all day begin to hit him. He was drinking a lager he'd never heard of at the time that had an _almost_ minty taste, when suddenly he was hit with a wave of nausea so strong he was sure he turned green. It passed after a moment and he felt better, but he was still far too dizzy and sloppy to keep his composure. He knew he was well beyond the ability to apparated at this point in time, and knew even if he did he wouldn't wind up going to his own flat.

He stumbled into the kitchen, excusing himself from the group of four he'd found himself joining in. He needed to find some bread, something to help sober him up a bit, and for some reason he couldn't seem to locate a single one of Potter's house elves. He scoffed at the idea of having to find it for himself, and using his wand to simply summon it for some reason failed to cross his mind. He was searching through a pantry he'd found left of the stove when a voice caused him to jump. "Most people search through people's potion cabinets, not through their kitchens."

Of course it would have been Ginny to find him in such a state. He ran one of his large, cold hands over his face in annoyance at getting caught, and turned to face her with a scowl on his own. "I wasn't being nosey, I was trying to-"

"Find something to sober up? You look like you're about to get sick. Maybe you should have gone to the toilet instead."

He braced himself on the stove to keep from falling to the floor. "That was too far away," he admitted.

She stared at him for a long moment, as if thinking she should simply leave him to be sick on his own, before she sighed and pulled out her wand, "_Accio sandwich_," she said quietly, and then handed him one of their leftover roast beef ones from the previous day, that seemed like forever ago at that moment. "Follow me, we'll go sit outside, the cool air might do you some good." Hesitantly, she moved closer to him and allowed him to put an arm across her shoulders, and helped him make it outside.

Though he tried not to, he couldn't help but inhale her hair. She smelled like flowers, it seemed to intoxicate him more than the alcohol had done, he wanted nothing more than to rest his head on hers and just continue to breathe in her scent until he fell asleep. The moment they stepped outside and the cold air hit him, it snapped him out of it though. She sat him down on a soft chair at the end of the porch, and took one opposite him, curling her legs underneath her body and watching him eat.

He scarfed the sandwich down, suddenly feeling the hunger from his day of binge drinking and no food. He hated when he did this. It seemed Draco could go days without a drip of alcohol but then to make up for not having any he drank away entire days. He'd spent a weekend in France with Astoria once that he couldn't even remember, and that was the last time they'd gone on holiday together. He was used to making a fool of himself, and usually it didn't bother him, but being so pissed around Ginny made him feel like scum. And he was so hungry he thought he might pass out.

He didn't have to say anything though. It was as if she could read his mind, for she summoned a plate of sandwiches and put them on the table beside him for him to help himself to. He gave her a look that he hoped showed that he was grateful, but with how horrible he felt he was sure he just looked like he was holding back vomit.

After he ate a little more he began to feel better. He was sure he'd started to regain colour in his cheeks because now the cool air was starting to get to him, and he was beginning to feel cold. "Won't Potter worry about you disappearing with a man at your own party?" He said it with a sharp edge to his tone, and he wasn't even sure why he was trying to be rude. Maybe that was just how he got whenever he felt vulnerable. Maybe that was why Astoria never tried to get too personal with him.

She opened her mouth as though to speak and then closed it again. There was a lengthy silence where she seemed as though she couldn't think of how to reply.

He chose that moment to apologize. "I'm sorry. I'm a shitty person. The more time you spend around me the more it'll come out."

"Well...not to be rude, but I already knew that about you."

He found himself laughing at the comment. "I guess I don't try to hide it."

"I think you're just confused."

"I think I want to talk to you because I'm completely fucked right now and I like your company," he was being bold in a way he'd never been before. Sure, Draco slept around, and though he'd cheated on Astoria numerous times, he'd never come onto someone who was committed to someone else. It felt hypocritically wrong. And here he was on the porch with Ginny and he desired nothing more than to hold her in his arms and...he wasn't even sure. He hadn't even thought about sex with her, he just thought about being around her. He enjoyed her company, and he couldn't think of another female he'd ever felt like that about. His feelings for Astoria and his feelings for Ginny were similar, and yet so different. He probably did feel the same for Astoria, it just boiled down to how they made him want to act. Ginny made him wish he were better...Astoria didn't.

"Go ahead...I'm listening."

He poured his heart out to her about Astoria. Everything he'd purposefully made himself cease to think about, like times he left her crying on her birthday, and things he had said simply to hurt her – came tumbling out of his mouth like he'd been dying to get it off his chest for years. By the end of it he found himself feeling loads better. It was as if he'd been holding something heavy for ages and had gotten used to it, and then all the sudden it was taken away. He felt lighter, and better. Like a man who'd confessed all of his sins and been forgiven.

Ginny again looked like there was something she wanted to say but wasn't sure how to say it. She shifted uncomfortably in her chair for a moment, closed her eyes and sighed, and then looked determined. "I think... Well, your situation... I guess it kinda reminds me of-"

No sooner had the words left her mouth before the door opened and a large crowd of people came out. Granger and Weasley were included, but Potter, as usual, was nowhere to be found. "Ginny!" Granger called happily, "We were wondering where you'd gone!"

They made their way over, talking excitedly, not even noticing Draco was there. He watched them interact for a moment, and then decided it was time to go. He felt good enough to apparated now, and was sure that he wasn't going to wind up at Astoria's. He tried to meet Ginny's eyes to see if she wanted to walk with him out, but she never glanced over.

He felt flooded with disappointment at that, and then shook it off angrily. Walk him out? Really? Maybe they should just shag in the garden while they were at it.

He mumbled unhappily to himself as he headed back inside to say his goodbyes, and caught Potter in the corner, conversing with a man Draco didn't recognize, but who had a strange air of confidence in him. Originally he hadn't wanted to see him, speak to him, or thank him, but if he wanted to be able to spend time with Ginny again – he knew it would have to be at Potter's. And he knew that meant he'd have to play nice.

So, he did.

"Hey," he said, stepping beside the two men. "Sorry to interrupt. I just wanted to say thanks for inviting me to the match, and back here...I had a good time."

Potter grinned at him. "No problem. It wasn't as bad as I thought it might be. Maybe you can join us again, we always have spare tickets."

Draco felt his eye twitching. _I'm sure you do_, he thought bitterly. "Maybe...there are quite a few more games before the World Cup."

"Think you're alright enough to apparate?"

"Yeah...I, er, helped myself to some of your leftovers."

Potter seemed to tense up again, as if by mentioning the leftovers he knew who really had gotten them for him. But like the last time, it went away quickly. "Well, if you're sure. Maybe I'll see you at the office tomorrow."

_Don't count on it_. "Yeah, maybe."

And he left.

**oOo**

Monday mornings were always when the newest _Witch Weekly's_ were published, and Draco was the first one at the newsstand that morning to purchase one.

Tom Styfin ran the newspaper stand in the Atrium, and he was surprised to see Draco buying a copy. "Astoria's making you buy your own now?" He joked. "Didn't think these were your style."

"They're not," Draco said hotly, tossing the coins needed at him, and wandering into the empty break room to open it.

He searched the magazine up and down two times over before deducting that there was no mention of him. He even bought a copy of the _Prophet_, too, to check Rita's column and found that hers was slanderous as always, but not about him.

He felt a mixture of emotions at that. He was nervous, because maybe it meant something bigger was coming. Angry, because he felt for sure that if Astoria wasn't posting it - it was because she was trying to make him feel bad. And...maybe he even felt disappointed. Because deep down he knew if she wasn't posting, then maybe it was because she didn't care, and if she didn't care, then that meant it really was over...despite it already being over.

Well, none of that really made sense.

Instead he busied himself in work. Craigston had quite a few meetings and a lot of paperwork he needed finished that day. By the time lunch rolled around Draco felt as though he'd only managed to do a small portion of everything he needed, and that put him in a fool mood.

He entered the cafeteria alone, because Markus was tied up, and grabbed himself a helping of the Ministry food. He'd never been a fan of it. Usually Astoria would make a lunch for him, and though her cooking skills weren't the greatest he would prefer to eat her healthy and slightly over-cooked meals than purchase ones from work. The "meat" sandwich that sat on his tray in front of him only made his mood that much worse. He enjoyed spending lunch with Markus, and hated to be alone in the cafeteria.

He sat at an empty table in the far corner of the room picking at his food for awhile, but mostly just refilling his drink. He was trying to refrain from thinking about any female at all, when Sandy from the Improper Use of Magic Office came and joined him.

Sandy was someone Draco had previously had his eye on. He would rate her as one of the most attractive females at the Ministry, maybe even one of the most attractive females he knew. Of course, Astoria was far more fair, and even though to a lot of blokes Ginny might not be ranked higher than the girl before him, to Draco, she was. Her hair matched her name: it was sandy blonde. Her eyes were large and hazel, her body was more on the wand-like frame, she had a nice pair of pouty lips, and she was closer to his age. She was 25, which meant that next to Granger she was one of the youngest women at the Ministry who didn't just have a clerical job.

Draco had never tried to pursue it with her because she was dating someone. It was always an off-and-on thing, and he'd actually listened to her vent about it a few times, but it had been a boundary he'd never wanted to cross.

Now, though, with knowing he had lost Astoria and knew he'd never measure up to Potter – he felt like flirting with the line he'd decided to never cross. Maybe it would help get him out of his funk. "Hey Drake," she said, taking a seat next to him.

He scowled at the nickname. "Hey," he replied, moving his tray out of the way.

"You look stressed out. Is everything alright with Astoria?"

"We're not together."

She raised her eyebrows. "Is that a fact?"

"It is. She left me."

She softened slightly. "Well I'm sorry to hear that. There's other unicorns in the forest though."

He resisted the urge to call her out for her cliché phrase, and continued on with the conversation. "How are things with you and Ernest?"

"About the same as always... Listen if you need somebody to talk to, I'm here for you."

That perked him up slightly. "Well...maybe you could come out with me after work. There's a nice little pub down the block from my flat. We'll have a couple drinks, and then I'll show you the area."

She seemed to think about it for a bit.

Draco always held his breath at these moments. He'd never been rejected before, but he knew eventually it would have to happen, and he'd never done it at work with such an audience of people that he knew around. He usually tried to get the girl as alone as possible and started with some flirting before working his magic. Now, he was just being sloppy. There was no real emotional tie whatsoever to Sandy, she was just another number to him, but the idea of being told no still would damage his ego.

Actually, in the long run, it might be the best thing that could happen for him if he wanted to change.

"Ernest gets home at 6," she said, as though really thinking about it. "Maybe I could just come with you to your flat and we could talk."

_Talk_, he thought. _Right_.

**oOo**

Sandy moaned preposterously loudly. He'd placed silencing charms in his flat after he'd first started fondling her, because she was overly loud even then. Moments after he placed himself inside her she'd begun practically screaming in pleasure, and he would have preferred her to make no noises at all.

He'd tried bending her over, thinking if her face was pushed into the pillows she'd be muffled, but she had been louder in that position than the first, and though it had annoyed him, he couldn't deny that she didn't feel great... Probably one of the better ones he'd had the pleasure of stuffing his member in.

After awhile he simply went with it. If he said anything to her, she had a dirty response back, and though she were so loud he thought his ears might bleed – it was a pleasant change. Usually when he spoke to Astoria she never responded. She let him do whatever he wanted, but never would she go there. She was kind of shy, though. Sandy clearly had no inhibitions.

The act hadn't lasted very long. Draco had gone as rough and as fast as possible, thinking if he got off it would take away from the hopeless feeling that had settled, seemingly permanently, into his stomach. Her bare skin was bruising from the way he'd been handling her but at the moment he was glad he'd picked Sandy, because she liked it. She encouraged it, actually.

When he came he collapsed onto his bed beside her, breathing erratically, his heart in his ears, and he allowed her to cuddle into him for a moment, before grabbing his wand and cleaning the mess they'd made. "Wow," she breathed, reaching for her discarded blue bra that she didn't need, because she didn't carry very much in that department. "That was amazing."

He grinned despite himself. "Thank you. So were you."

"Do you feel any better?"

The honest answer was no. He had half a mind to tell her that, and make her feel bad, but he did like Sandy as a person and he felt that might be a bit too hurtful. "A little," he said, finally, dressing himself. "I forgot about everything for awhile."

She glanced at the bruises on her skin thoughtfully. "I guess it's a good thing I have make-up on me," she said, before glancing at the clock on his nightstand. "Can I use your bathroom?"

He nodded in its direction and watched her rise, half naked, with her purse in hand.

When she'd closed the door behind her he sighed, and pushed his fingers into his eyes so hard it made his head hurt. What could he do? What, if not this, could make him feel better? He knew if he went to the pub and drank away the evening that he would forget, but it would only be temporary. Eventually the alcohol would wear off and then he'd be back to where he was again.

He wanted to talk to Ginny, he realized with a start. He wish he knew where she stayed, or a way to get in touch with her at all, because that was the only thing that he felt might make him feel alright again. He didn't want to sit and think about why she was the person he wanted to run to, because then everything he'd just done with Sandy would make him feel guilty, and that wasn't what he wanted to feel. He just wanted to feel normal again...whatever that was for him.

"Doesn't Ernest usually get off at 7?" Draco asked after a silence, not sure why that fact had suddenly registered in his mind.

"He does...but there's a new bar that opens tonight in Cranberry Cavern that he was hoping to go to, so he's leaving early so we can check it out...Why? Would you like to join us?"

And, suddenly, he had a feeling he may actually luck out and find Ginny that evening. "Actually... I might just do that. Let me shower. I'll meet you there."

**A/N: **Thanks for reviewing!


	5. Everyone Has Their Skeletons

Sorry About That

**Chapter Five**

Everyone Has Their Skeletons

After Sandy left, Draco debated the idea of actually going to the pub.

For an hour.

During that time he showered, changed his clothes three different times, and drank two glasses worth of firewhiskey to calm his nerves. Then, of course, he felt bad for drinking, which put him in a foul mood, which ended with another thirty minutes of him sitting around his flat drinking more to make himself feel better about drinking.

Then he was far too intoxicated to go to the pub because he figured if he did see her there he'd probably wind up trying something.

And _then_ he decided he was just going to fucking go, because by that point she had probably already left.

That thought, however, did not sway his fifth glance in the mirror at his outfit, and the fact that he decided it was time to change _again_.

Ginny said he dressed like a stuffy old man. He wondered if that was because he wore a lot of black. He'd always thought he looked nice in it, that it stood out against his platinum hair and made his storm-cloud eyes seem brighter than they were. When he started to think about it, though, he could recall Astoria telling him he looked nice in a light blue, and recalled stuffing a bunch of clothes she had bought him in the very back of his closet.

Thinking about the clothes made him start to feel bad again, because he'd never worn them. She had bought them because she liked them, because she knew he'd look good in them, and the fact that he'd acted appalled at the idea and just tossed them aside just proved how much of an arsehole he was. He could remember in detail that night, when he insulted her, and she cried and left. All over a few shirts and some trousers. He was very good at hurting her feelings.

It seemed now that he hadn't had contact with her in a few days that every little thing he'd ever done to her was resurfacing in his head. Had he ever complimented her? Ever gone out of his way to do something nice for her on her birthday, or just because she deserved it? He hadn't. Well, that wasn't entirely true. Draco could remember the first year of their relationship, and how he'd gone to her flat all the time bearing gifts, and the first time he told her he loved her – he had meant that. Astoria had been there for him when he was broke, when nobody took him seriously. Then when he'd regained his respect and started to make money – that was when everything with them changed. Maybe he'd just needed her to raise his ego. Whatever the reason, he'd never done half as much for her as she'd always tried to do for him.

He made a mental note to talk to her. To try to work on things. She owed him a conversation, after all, he _was_ still paying for her flat.

He had changed into a light blue button-up shirt, and nice black trousers, and was just about to head out the door to head to the apparition point when there was a knock on his door.

Draco started. Very few people knew where his flat was. Most of them weren't in the mood to travel to Scotland and walk about a mile to reach him, which was why he picked a place so far from apparition to London wards. For a brief moment he thought perhaps it was Astoria, but he knew she'd never. Anytime Draco had tossed her out she didn't contact him until he went to her first. That was always how it happened. She hadn't even done that in the beginning.

He'd brought home quite a few females. It could have been one of them. But the knocking was too heavy to be a girl, and that was what snapped him out of it. He headed over and turned the knob, blinking in surprise at who stood there before a huge grin broke out over his face. "Blaise!" He said, excited, and the two men exchanged a hug. "I thought you were in Australia!"

Blaise, of course, looked as good as ever. He never changed. It almost seemed like he never aged, either.

Astoria and Blaise had actually modeled together a few times. Once, they were featured naked (but their most intimate parts had been almost completely covered), holding each other on the cover of a romance novel that had barely sold. Draco had been overly jealous after the fact. Beforehand they had all laughed about it together, spending the evening making jokes and drinking, but after seeing the pictures Draco had lost his mind. He and Blaise had gotten into it, their first serious fight of their friendship, and Blaise had disappeared to Australia for awhile. He hadn't heard from him in over a year.

"I just moved back to London, actually." He said. "I was trying to stay off the radar for awhile. I used to think you running off to live out here was petty, but after leaving I understand the appeal behind privacy. I started to enjoy it. Nobody knew me. I was free to be who I wanted and live as I wanted. But that life can get lonely…so I'm back. I was hoping we could talk."

Thoughts of the pub were momentarily forgotten. Draco motioned for his friend to have a seat, and they began to talk about what had happened in their absence. Draco let Blaise speak first. He learned about how he'd gotten on with a hospital in Australia as a Healer, shared a flat with a man who had such a thick accent Blaise could hardly understand him, and had dated his share of women, but none of them had gotten very serious. But that was how Blaise was. Draco had admired him, his freedom, the way he met a woman and could easily walk away from them, the fact that he made his own rules. Blaise had probably been another factor that led to the downfall in his relationship with Astoria, though unintentionally. Blaise had actually very much approved of Astoria and had often scolded Draco for how he treated her. It seemed both men had been very jealous of the other.

When Blaise finished his speech, he looked at Draco as though to tell him to start his, and here Draco hesitated. He didn't like the thought of admitting out loud his relationship ending to Blaise. So far he'd only said it to get sympathy from others, and to use it to his advantage. He knew, however, if he mentioned it to his friend there was no going back from it. If Blaise ever found out the truth, he would be knocking on Astoria's door to convince her why Draco was no good, and why it was for the best that she never speak to him again. And then he would probably have his way with her.

It put a terrible taste in Draco's mouth that he hoped to never have again. "Well…I still work for Craigston, and he made a deal with me that if I can behave myself until December with Potter that he'll do what he can to get me on at MLES."

Blaise was unusually quiet for a moment. "Potter…As in, Harry Potter? Boy Who Lived, Potter?"

"The same," Draco said.

"Ah…How's that going for you?"

"It's fine. Potter and Ginny actually invited me to a Quidditch match on Sunday. We got on pretty well. It seems that the ill-feelings from school have faded. We at least tolerate each other now."

"Hmm," Blaise hummed, as though thinking for a moment. "Potter and _Ginny_? Not Potter and Weasley? Or did they finally tie the knot?"

Draco was certain he turned a shade of red. "No…they're engaged. And she's…" He had to think for a moment. He wanted to go on and on about Ginny. Blaise had never been judgmental and had even admitted back in Sixth Year he thought of her as attractive. A lot had changed since the War, and the fact that she was a Mudblood-lover had ceased to matter after a few years of working in the Ministry. Blaise, it seemed, had changed his mind about muggles and muggleborns when he first became a Healer, as though realizing their blood was the same color had changed his mind on everything. But to Draco, it had nothing to do with that aspect of her anymore. It was simply that he didn't know if he should admit his feelings to a friend he hadn't seen in a year. It was another time where Draco knew he'd have to be certain he was done with Astoria for good to talk about another female.

Blaise had always had suspicions about Draco and his womanizing, but had never caught him in the act. He'd left strong hints that he thought Draco was stupid for not appreciating the woman he had in front of him, but otherwise he usually just remained neutral about it. Draco's private life was his private life, and Blaise was Draco's friend before Astoria's. Draco knew if he'd ever told Blaise about it, that his loyalty would lie with Draco, but he'd never wanted to put his friend in a position to choose. That was back when they were best mates though. Now… Well, Draco wasn't sure how Blaise would react.

"She's alright. I enjoy her company."

"I'll tell you something about the Potter's… their relationship is a mess. You don't want to get sucked into that. It's far too much drama."

"…Oh?" That was news. "What do you know about it?"

Blaise was again silent for awhile. "Enough," he answered. "But because of my position as a Healer I'm unable to go into more details about it with you. Perhaps you could ask her, since she's someone important to you."

"I was actually hoping to go and see her tonight," Draco admitted.

"You won't be spending the evening with Astoria?"

"We… well. We're not together anymore."

Again, Blaise showed no real sign of surprise. "I figured as much when I saw your reaction to Ginny's name being mentioned. Should I ask why?"

"If you question her I'm sure she'll give you a long list."

"I'm not asking her, though. I'm asking you."

Draco scratched his head. "Let's just say I didn't treat her like she deserved to be treated. And before you start to really dig into it – it had nothing to do with Ginny."

"I wasn't thinking that. I am almost positive that Ginny is completely devoted to Potter."

"I don't know why."

Blaise smiled. "If only you knew." He rose to his feet. "Well, I won't keep you. I just wanted to stop in and tell you I was back in town. I have an interview with St. Mungo's tomorrow afternoon, but if you're available perhaps we can have lunch."

"Sure… I'll walk with you."

On their way to the apparition ward Draco tried not to read too much into his conversation with his friend. How did everyone _but_ him know about them?

When he apparated to Cranberry Cavern he had his mind made up that if he were to bump into Ginny that evening he would find out answers from her. He was tired of being left in the dark.

At first he was thoroughly disappointed. The pub was packed, but she was nowhere to be found. He did see Sandy and Ernest, and though Sandy waved for him to come and join them he ignored her and made his way to the bar instead, where he could have a clear view of the door should she arrive.

Three firewhiskeys, four beers, and two shots later Draco was sloppy drunk again, and the pub was beginning to clear out. Almost everyone who'd arrived just because it was new had left already, and now it was just filled with the usual crowd you'd find in a pub – alcoholics.

Draco ordered a water and some chips to eat to try and sober up, and had just popped the first few in his mouth when suddenly there she was.

Tonight she was dressed casual. Her trousers were tight as they usually were, and her top was black and showed just a hint of cleavage. She had her hair pulled back into a tie and wore small silver hoop earrings that seemed to make her neck beg for Draco to kiss it. She was equipped with some parchment and a quill, looking like she was all business, and Draco was about to do something silly – like wave like an excited child. Luckily, she saw him before he could, and she smiled in a way where you could read her confusion from a mile away.

She glanced around the bar one more time before she hesitantly walked over to join him. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Thought I'd just grab something to drink." Now he felt silly. He was sure she knew exactly why he'd come.

"On a Monday evening?"

He didn't like her tone. "If you're implying something-"

"I don't think I need to imply anything. I think it's clear that you have a drinking problem."

For some reason, he liked that she spoke her mind. That she was as hot tempered as he was. That she wasn't afraid to hold back. It meant he couldn't manipulate her. It maybe even meant he was evenly matched. "I'm working on it," he said. "Kind of."

She snorted.

"Can I buy you a beer?"

Ginny watched him for a moment, as though contemplating, and did another glance around the pub.

"What's the matter? Can't be seen in public with me?"

"I'm here for work," she reminded him. "But I guess a drink won't hurt. After that we should go somewhere else."

"You'd…" he stopped. He'd been surprised at her reply, and had been about to bring notice on the fact that she had suggested they spend more time together. He was afraid if he said it, though, that she'd realize what she'd committed herself to, and change her mind. "What would you like?"

She drank a few lagers with him. It had began innocently enough as one, and then he talked her into a second. When he asked if she'd like a third she didn't even pretend to consider it and simply agreed to the rest of them.

He was having the time of his life. He was making her laugh, she was making him laugh, she would touch him while she did it, and each time it would cause his heart to race. He counted that she had three winkles in the corners of her eyes whenever she would really smile, and only one when she smiled to be polite. Her eyelashes were a deep brown, despite her hair being so red, and they were long and perfectly curled. She had one tooth that stuck out a bit further than the others that wouldn't have been noticeable at all if he wasn't studying her so intently, and she smelled amazing. Everything about her left him feeling like a child.

As the evening wore on, they eventually left, and Draco gloated inwardly over the fact that she hadn't written anything down the entire night. They walked the streets of Cranberry Cavern, both of them leaning on each other occasionally for support, and finally headed over to the small park in town, to sit down on a bench and relax some. It hadn't begun to snow yet, but the weather was getting closer and closer to beginning. Draco could see his breath, and unless his hands were stuffed inside the pocket of his jumper and wrapped tightly in his gloves - he felt like he were freezing.

"What is your secret?" He asked before he thought too much about it and decided not to.

Ginny's smile disappeared from her face. "What secret?"

"With Potter. What's the story? What am I missing? Why did he lie about you being with him in Dublin? Why did Daphne snort when you said he was working?"

Ginny's face turned red. "I'm surprised that Daphne didn't tell you."

"Well…we don't exactly talk anymore." That was true. She'd come to find Draco a few times and each time he simply acted as though he'd never met her before. He treated her how he treated all of them.

Ginny sighed. "I shouldn't be saying this… You should ask Harry."

He touched her thigh then, desire taking over the voice in his head that was telling him not to. "I don't want to talk to him."

She watched his hand on her thigh and then took a deep breath, before she moved her leg out from underneath him. For a long time he thought she wasn't going to answer, and just when he was about to say something else, she spoke. "Harry and I were supposed to get married two years into my Quidditch career. That was always the plan, I'm not sure why. But he was trying to be an Auror, and he was in training. I started playing right after I left Hogwarts, and Harry didn't actually join the department until right after I started. Then he was gone a lot working, and I was gone a lot. We didn't see much of each other… I think that's why it started. I was engaged to him, and one day I took my ring off to play a game, and for some reason after that I just never put it back on."

Draco resisted the urge to raise his eyebrows. This…he hadn't expected.

"And then I met someone. His name was Geoffrey and he was a broadcaster so he went to all of our matches. We spent a lot of time together. I don't know if I really cared about him, or if I was just lonely. All I know is that eventually… things started to happen. And at first I felt terrible. And then I stopped caring. Harry would try to come out to see me and I would make excuses. I think eventually he could tell something was going on.

"I think I liked that I wasn't being good. When you date Harry, a guy who has saved the world, who has risked his life for complete strangers – people expect you to be the same way. People thought I was just like that, because I was with him. And I'm not. I can't be. I can't walk around like there's a halo over my head and sacrifice what I want to do with my own life if it's for the good of others like he can. Harry seems to have this idea in his brain that I'm just like him… Well. He used to.

"Anyway, the pressure was too much. Geoffrey and I started to be careless. Harry came one day and found out and it was…" she pressed her gloved hands into her eyes for a moment. "Horrible. They started hexing each other, I was almost sure Harry was going to kill him. I cast a stunning spell at the same time they cast a spell, and they collided and then exploded. We all spent a few weeks in St. Mungo's recovering." Well, that at least cleared up how Blaise knew about them. "Harry wouldn't talk to me for ages."

She grew silent again. Draco wasn't really sure he wanted her to continue anymore.

"Well, we had to see each other again because we were both in George and Angelina's wedding. I still wore my ring. I think that was the first time Harry decided to be around me at all, and by then it had been almost a year. We started to talk a bit, and slowly he came around again. I knew he would never forgive me – Harry never really forgives anyone. But Harry loves, and he loves deeply. And Harry's lost almost everyone he's ever really cared about. I think eventually it was the thought of losing me again that won him over.

"Harry said he wouldn't work on our engagement unless I quit playing Quidditch… And though it's my passion in life…I sacrificed it. Because Harry would be willing to do that for me. We started a rumor that it was because we wanted to work on a family, but that wasn't entirely true. We needed to work on _us_, as a family. That was two years ago… And now, here we are."

It still left a lot unanswered, but Draco was having trouble processing the story. He'd never expected this. Ginny seemed so…innocent. "And Dublin?"

"Harry…well. Like I said, Harry hasn't completely forgiven me. But because he's someone the news eats up – he wants everything to seem like it's perfect. The Dublin home is a lie he came up with a long time ago, so it seemed like we did things that normal couples do. He might go by himself, I'm not sure."

"How does Daphne know?"

She rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding? Daphne has had a thing for Harry from the moment he started at the Ministry. When Harry and I split up over it, they dated for a bit. He called things off to work things out with me. She got really bitter about the situation. There was a lot of drama there, actually, _way _too much. In the end Harry had to threaten her with spilling a secret of hers if she didn't back off…I guess the proper term is blackmail."

At the mention of blackmail Draco perked up slightly. Now he was interested in knowing what it was that Daphne was hiding. He was pretty sure if he worked at it he could get Astoria to… At the thought of her, Draco's mouth went dry. "So…when you were calling me out for how I was treating Astoria-"

"I could understand you. It's so easy. It's the easiest thing in the world to get caught up in another person when you're not happy with who you're with. And that's what makes it worse. Relationships are hard. Admitting you're not happy and leaving – that's _hard_. We were being cowards. We were taking the easy way out… I've been around Astoria enough to know that she is a good person. She writes rubbish and hangs out with horrible people, but she's a good person… and she deserved more… I'm very… I guess, proud of you. For doing what you did. I take back what I said about you the first time you came over."

"Why stay with him?" He asked. "Just because you're afraid to leave?"

"No…There are so many reasons. Harry protected me. Harry still, to this day, goes out of his way to protect me. Harry takes care of me, despite me wanting him to. Harry lets me have my life, even knowing the things I'm capable of when left alone. Harry has hard the worst life of anyone I will ever meet in the rest of mine, he has been through more than you could ever imagine…Harry deserves love. He deserves to wake up in the morning with someone beside him that makes him happy. He deserves happiness. I want to give that to him, because I can't give him anything else."

"So…I guess the question really is…Do you love Harry?"

He watched a tear slide down her face. "That's a loaded question… Do you love Astoria?"

Though he didn't mean to, he caught himself wiping the tear off of her face, and leaving his hand on her cheek. For the longest time they just looked into each other's eyes. He could see her brown orbs, watched the whites surrounding them turn red, watched the tears build up and fall down her cheeks. He watched her breath form in front of her face, he felt the warmth from her closeness, her body heat. He wanted to kiss her, he realized. He wanted to forget about the world around them and allow himself to press his lips against hers and experience whatever it was he thought was going to come from it. The urge to do it was so strong it left him panting. He knew if he did it there was no going back.

Ginny stared between both of his eyes, and her breathing slowed down. They continued to look at each other, and finally he let go. He could hear her let out a slight breath when he did, and he turned to stare over at the park, his heart racing, not sure of what to say.

"At one point I thought I loved Astoria," he said finally. "Then… Maybe I just got used to her. It's a fucked up situation, because she's a great person. She's too good for me… That doesn't mean I don't think about her, or miss her, or regret anything. But…" he licked his lips and instantly regretted it once he felt the sting of the wind hit them.

He wanted to tell her he wished it had been Ginny. That if it had been her they wouldn't be here right now. They would work on things. She would call him out when he was an arsehole, he would realize he was acting that way, and he would apologize. They would go out for a few drinks and have a good time together. They would cheer and make fools of themselves at Quidditch matches. They would be completely happy and never stray.

Ginny's lip trembled. She, too, decided it was best not to look at him. He wanted to look into her mind, to read her thoughts, to know how she was feeling. He needed to know he wasn't alone with this passion, with this overwhelming urge and desire to take things further. That if he had attempted to kiss her that she would have kissed back, she would have enjoyed it, she would have let him take her back to his flat. He had to believe that they weren't happy with the others because they were waiting for this exact moment in time.

She reached across the bench and tentatively put her hand in his. "I know," she said quietly.

**A/N**: Fast update! I was going to wait a week like I usually do but I was really excited to get this out. I love writing this story, I have so much fun with it. I wish I updated as fast with my other fanfic, that one's been on this site since 2011 and it's taking me foreverrrr to finish it!

Well, I hope that this pleasantly surprised everyone! When I first started writing this I knew I wanted the couple to have a secret, but I knew if I were to keep this as canon as possible that Harry would never cheat. (I can't say I believe that he would be as forgiving as he is in this, either, but I hoped that Ginny's speech at least made that much believable.) It took me a few chapters to decide what I wanted the revelation to be. I went through a million scenarios before this one finally was the one I wanted to go through, I thought this one would be the one to work.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Now that that's out of the way, we're in for a fun little ride of other disasters and situations that need to be addressed. To be honest, now I'm just kind of free-styling. I know how I want this to end but I'm not sure how to get there!

Thanks so much for reviewing, it brightens my day!


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